She looked at him mournfully. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. ’ Mrs Sindlesham’s alert glance found his. The door closed upon her, and he moved reluctantly away. ‘But this Englishwoman,’ asked the man Valade, his puzzlement plain to see, ‘who was she?’ The question irritated Charvill. If I told you the facts, I expect, since you are in love with me, you’d explain the whole business as being very fine and honorable for me—the Higher Morality, or something of that sort. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of.
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