Hours were spent in preparation for the event. Returning to Mrs Sindlesham’s chair, he held up the miniature so the face depicted there was turned towards the old lady. He had need of all the inexhaustible energy of his character to support him through his toilsome walk over the wet grass, or along the slippery ploughed land. He hung vaguely for a moment as she passed. He was not in love with her en désespoir which, he said, was necessary if a man would marry without getting a dowry from his wife. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. They alighted at the restaurant, and stood for a moment in the passage looking into the crowded room. “I have the right of the man who loves you,” he declared. She did this to please him. So the talk went on, and presently they were criticising novelists, and certain daring essays of Wilkins got their due share of attention, and then they were discussing the future of the theatre.
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