“Her ladyship dined at home,” the man answered. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. . He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. They had changed identities absolutely. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. So do please believe that in this matter I am acting for the best.
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