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Sir Rowland waved his hand, and the attendant withdrew. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. A person of somewhat artificial graces and mannerisms, she was for once in her life perfectly natural. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. She grasped at the right one, massaging where his grip had been and Gerald hoped he had not bruised her. "So we are, Ma'am, by your charms," returned Mr.
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