He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. ‘But do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. ” She said. If Miss Charvill should take it into her head to dash off on some foolish errand, go with her by all means. She walked straight across to the wardrobe and opened it. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. ’ ‘Lord, yes,’ agreed Gerald, in mock horror.
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