And then at the street corner she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. She had seen her really only at teas, with the Stanley strain in her uppermost. “You shall drive home with me in a hansom, if you will. The tall, blond boys, right?” “That’s them. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. ” She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to the tall, gloomy lodging-house. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. Beyond was a narrow bridge, crossing a circular building, at the bottom of which lay a deep well. ” She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful. " "Do not speak of it," rejoined Thames, with a look of horror.
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