But one must disguise oneself. ‘Because,’ said Lady Bicknacre in the confidential manner of all matrons when passing on a tidbit of scandal, ‘Nicholas married against his father’s wishes and ran away. This is my first venture over here. I speak no harm of her. “But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added. She had come across the wicked South Seas which were still infested with cannibals; she had seen drunkenness and called men beachcombers; who was this moment as innocent as a babe, and in the next uttered some bitter wisdom it had taken a thousand years of philosophy to evolve. Still —there you are!” He paused. “Oh, theories! Being in love is a fact. A robbery has been committed, and your master suspects this lad as an accessory to the offence. After all, she only LOOKED a woman. ” She noted that as a good saying, and it germinated and spread tentacles of explanation through her brain. With your pencil you see into the hearts of all; and without your pencil you are dumb and blind.
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