‘I, on the other hand, want to help you to marry this Englishman. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. Sheppard, he turned to quit the churchyard. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. “Forgive me,” he said, “but I want to hear it from your sister. ‘But you have told them that I have been disguised, no? That I have broken into Remenham House, and—’ ‘No, no, child, don’t be alarmed,’ said her great-aunt, her tone soothing. Too many. For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life.
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