“I believe you are quite right so far as regards the present, at any rate,” someone remarked, from the depths of an easy chair. “I don’t know. The soi-disant Valade held the centre of the room now, only an uncovered but closed card-table, its surface dusty, between him and the suite at the fireplace. ‘But I’ve known that for years. At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. Her eye met Miss Stanley’s understandingly, and she was if anything a trifle more affectionate in her greeting to Ann Veronica. It is all very complex. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes.
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