“There is a secret. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. ‘Let me see if our minds are attuned. This is something above all rules. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before. ” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind.
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