Perhaps she was. ‘You give me an excellent excuse to have in the Madeira,’ said his hostess, reaching for a silver hand bell and setting it pealing. I do not want to get only a second-hand flavour of life. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. The note-passer lagged behind with her. And, if Rachel had not carried a candle, the room would have been plunged in total darkness. ’ She looked up again and smiled sweetly. For such of us as pretend to be wise—and we are but fools in a lesser degree—we know that humanity moves onward only by the impellant of fine dreams. “I’ve broken off my engagement,” she said, in a matter-of-fact tone, and found her heart thumping in her neck.
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