Have you ever heard the name of Meysey Hill?” “Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some significance for him. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional. —Providence, I mean—HAS arranged it so that men will keep you, more or less. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. ” She controlled a sob. Then she saw him.
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