“And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs. Yet she never once thought of changing it. CHAPTER XVI. She passed inside and upstairs without a word. To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. “I believe,” he said stiffly, “that these are the apartments of Miss Pellissier. Killed is too kind a word. The Becks as a 187 family didn’t talk or ruminate over Mike’s or Lucy’s past much. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. It was ended. Coldly she spoke, in a distinctly accented voice.
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