His hand flew across the paper. I went to her rooms to-night. That’s the fact of the matter. The wall of the sky, the wall of the horizon, the wall behind which each human being hid—the wall behind which she herself was hiding! If only her mother had lived, her darling mother! Presently the unhappy puzzlement left her face; and an inward glow began to lighten it. But, like all your overbearing sex, you must have your own way. “Someone must have found it and taken good care of it. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. I say again, grace à vous.
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