Why should he stare at her in this fashion?—for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his head? CHAPTER III He had said it, spoken it like that … his own name! After all these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!… to have given it to this girl without her asking! The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog. ‘You don’t believe her?’ ‘My dear Major Alderley, I do not know her,’ Mrs Sindlesham pointed out. He could not tell whether she was English or American. It was, in his opinion, the most astonishing letter he had ever read. Art was everywhere, underfoot in the form of mosaics, overhead in the form of architecture. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. Perhaps the day of her recompense was at hand. And now, a fair exchange, Sir.
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