“You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. The fascination of the idea of throwing himself upon his knees and crying out all that was in his heart! As his eyes began to focus objects, he saw one of her arms extended upon the counterpane, in his direction, the hand clenched tightly. He wished he had the time to solve this riddle, for it was a riddle, and four-square besides. He was not Meysey Hill, but an Englishman of business, and he had only a small income. He entered the room with his usual deliberation, and looked covertly about him.
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