It is the worst of talk under such social circumstances that it is always getting cut off so soon as it is beginning; and I went home that afternoon feeling I had said nothing—literally nothing—of the things I had meant to say to you and that were coursing through my head. Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. Ah, but she could remember; and many things there were that she would never forgive. Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. On the other a wretched engraving of the Chevalier de Saint George, or, as he was styled in the label attached to the portrait, James the Third, raised a suspicion that the inmate of the house was not altogether free from some tincture of Jacobitism. ‘I thought you said you take housebreaking very seriously. ‘There are no Remenhams left. “No reason.
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