Amongst the human element there was an air
of tenseness which seemed rather to increase as they passed into
the shadowy reaches of the river.
"You have been ill, I am afraid?" Francis said tentatively.
"If you will," she answered, "but my illness is of the soul. I
have become one of a type," she went on, "of which you will find
many examples here. We started life thinking that it was clever
to despise the conventional and the known and to seek always for
the daring and the unknown. New experiences were what we craved
for. I married a wonderful husband. I broke his heart and still
looked for new things. I had a daughter of whom I was fond--she
ran away with my chauffeur and left me; a son whom I adored, and
he was killed in the war; a lover who told me that he worshipped
me, who spent every penny I had and made me the laughing-stock of
town. I am still looking for new things."
"Sir Timothy's parties are generally supposed to provide them,"
Francis observed.
The woman shrugged her shoulders.
"So far they seem very much like anybody's else," she said. "The
fight might have been amusing, but no women were allowed. The
rest was very wonderful in its way, but that is all. I am still
hoping for what we are to see downstairs."
They heard Sir Timothy's voice a few yards away, and turned to
look at him.
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