It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. It is better to face the truth. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. All right. The other was helping Trodger with his operation upstairs. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. ‘Madame, I trust I see you well?’ ‘Merci. Such of his features as were visible were of coarse mould. Too late now.
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