"And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. Gosse had come to Blaye, so he had said, feeling it his duty as the vicomte’s erstwhile secretary to deliver the fateful tidings, bringing with him one of the servant girls, Yolande, who had also escaped the fury of the mob. As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her. He had come to Anna’s rooms from a dinner party, and he was in evening dress. I’ve never met any one like you. Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love. Dorling said. His eyes were fixed upon her face, but he opened his lips twice before he spoke. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. “And I’m not happy. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love.
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