“Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison. ‘What else was there to do? He paid off the servants and left old Pottiswick in charge, saying that the place would have to remain empty until the heir was found. He seemed to possess a penetration and cunning beyond his years—to hide a man's judgment under a boy's mask. At last in a street near the Hampstead Road she hit upon a room that had an exceptional quality of space and order, and a tall woman with a kindly face to show it.
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