She would never forget the agony of that first meal in the great dining room. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. "You can shave him, you know. ” “Why?” asked Hetty. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. My mind is full of ideas and images that I have been cherishing and accumulating—dreams of travelling side by side, of lunching quietly together in some jolly restaurant, of moonlight and music and all that side of life, of seeing you dressed like a queen and shining in some brilliant throng—mine; of your looking at flowers in some old-world garden, our garden—there are splendid places to be got down in Surrey, and a little runabout motor is quite within my means. Then he sat down and filled his pipe slowly and thoughtfully. And now you must go back, take up your work and think all this over. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. " "Liar!" ejaculated Thames.
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