She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. When she finally did take her own lover, it was not with a member of the household staff. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. "You forgot your lunch," she said. Wood, contemptuously. As the time when his identity had to be proved approached, this rigour was, in a trifling degree, relaxed, and a few persons were occasionally admitted to the ward, but only in the presence of Austin. Do you accept it?" "Dear Thames!" "Forgive this ill-timed avowal of my love.
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