But the besetting evil of the place, and that which drew down the severest censures of the writers above-mentioned, was that this spot,—which of all others should have been most free from such intrusion—was made a public exhibition. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. She knew the story only imperfectly, and followed it now with a passionate and deepening interest. ‘Ha! Just the person I want. Disillusion stands in one doorway of our house and Mockery in the other. But he reckoned without his host. ’ ‘Of course you weren’t there,’ snapped Hilary. .
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