I wonder whether you would mind, Lady Ferringhall,” he went on, with a sudden glance at her, “if I tell you that you yourself remind me a great deal more of what she was like then, except of course that your complexion and colouring are altogether different. I wish I could get you to imitate Thames Darrell. ’ She struggled. There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. Then I came to London and tried almost everything—all failures. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. ‘Poor Hilary. Gerald at once lowered his voice to that intimate level again, and leaned towards her.
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