Everything in the world had changed for her. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. ‘Martha was my wet-nurse? But she is unmarried. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. ’ ‘I presume you were not with her in France?’ Kimble stared. “The thing I feel most disposed to say, Miss Stanley,” he began at last, “is that this is very sudden. I said I’d make shirts. That's one of the troubles with young folks: they take themselves so seriously.
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