I’m a soldier, you see. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. I do not love any one. She had set out to get a beautiful life, a free, untrammelled life, self-development, without counting the cost either for herself or others. The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed. ‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance. His smile faded. “I suppose delusions are not uncommon to patients in his condition. Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. It was there in the breast pocket, stiff and legal looking. The latter request, though treated with supreme contempt by Mr.
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