She leaned back in her chair. “I had a visit from Sir John in my rooms,” she said. ” “Anything except that,” he murmured. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. Yet, stay! There is one thing I wish you to do. She had seen a man’s head steal out for a moment and draw the curtains a little closer. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. At least for one moment, it was. Suddenly he burst into wild laughter; but equally as suddenly something strangled the sound in his throat. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. ” “You would marry a divorcée?” she asked.
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