At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. Even the stars were strangers. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell. The City worried him a good deal, and what energy he had left over he spent partly in golf, a game he treated very seriously, and partly in the practices of microscopic petrography. Disgusted him! “For men policemen never blush; A man in all things scores so much. Around her neck was a little gold chain.
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