“This isn’t a world for an innocent girl to walk about in. She ran 60 past it with melancholic dread towards the slope that led to the ocean. She was quite tired of the stream of visitors and heard with relief the words of her newfound great-aunt, addressed to her son’s butler. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. He liked to draw her in, and she did her best to talk. He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. He saw the colossal selfishness of his act; but he could not beg off on the plea of abnormality. ’ ‘I am relieved to hear it. "There! off with you!" whispered Mrs. ‘No doubt accompanied by the latest crim con tales. The door opened. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. Her father held some printed document in his hand, and appeared not to observe her entry. Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking.
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