When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes. What might it have been?’ Mrs Sindlesham shook her head helplessly. Out of sight of that tell-tale window, the two officers darted across the grounds, speedily gaining the lee of the mansion walls. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster.
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