At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. I know nothing about the matter, but I feel convinced that you are right. One with the appearance of a bald little gnome yawned agonizingly. “Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. “You know very well that she is selfish and pleasure-loving to the backbone. “I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much admired, is not a good place for her.
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