In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. Her eyebrows were lifted in expostulation. Horrible details recurred to her. Always as black and bitter as gall. ‘I disgust you, eh? Very well, then. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. “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.
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