She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. I consented. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. At length, the body was brought towards him. The world isn’t ready for girls to start out on their own yet; that’s the plain fact of the case. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. It is not at all comme il faut. .
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