’ Colour suffused the man’s face. “We have to be— modern. You’ll never even see me again, for that 268 matter. Jonathan smiled contemptuously. " "Thames Ditton—is that your name?" "No," replied the boy, impatiently; "Darrell—Thames Darrell. That day Gerald had brought her to this excessively careful house, where she had felt very much alone and very unlike herself. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. She leaped to a world of shabby knowledge, of furtive base realizations.
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