could be more stern or more exquisitely kind. He knew every sort of society, and yet he had never married. He fell in love with me, and offered me his hand. I declined — I was afraid of him. He said he would shoot himself. And he would have done it; so I accepted. I should have ended by loving him. For he wished me to love him, and he always had his way. He was a man, and he held the same view of my world that I myself hold. Mr. Foster, you must think I’m in a very chattering mood.”

I protested with a gesture.

“Lord Clarenceux died. And I am alone. I was terribly lonely after his death. I missed his jealousy.”

“He was jealous?”

“He was the most jealous man, I think, who