He stood on the top step for a moment, lost in deep thought. She saw his face change, how he regretted. “What were you doing?” Her voice was a little hysterical. “You could have a talk to Miss Kitty Brett this afternoon, if you liked. ‘You cannot mean General Charvill?’ ‘That old martinet?’ exclaimed Roding. Manning,” she said, “for a time—Will you tell no one? Will you keep this—our secret? I’m doubtful—Will you please not even tell my aunt?” “As you will,” he said. He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. Then a light seemed to break in upon him. The beautiful gowns and the flashing bare shoulders and arms of the women had disturbed and distressed her.
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