The servants had left the room. He has helped me out of scrapes though, no end of times. "My horses, Charcam," he said, as a servant appeared. He was standing by, rating her ladyship,—who can scarcely stir from the sofa,—while I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed that she tried to hide a small casket from him. He displayed none of the airy optimism of their previous talk over the downland gate. And when I ask you why it is you do so, you have no answer. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. ‘That is what she wants, is it?’ ‘Do you blame her?’ he said stiffly. Presently he turned to Courtlaw.
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