Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. In his way he was critical. She hid behind a mirage of piety, just as I do. “You are not content then with stealing from me my name. ‘Of course not,’ snapped his friend. For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. ’ ‘Eh bien, it is your fault entirely in this case. ’ ‘That is what you thought of me. It is not for myself I fear.
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