She sat down by the paperrack with a general feeling of resemblance to Vivie Warren, and looked through the Morning Post and Standard and Telegraph, and afterward the half-penny sheets. Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround himself with the trappings of the finer life. She had been in the drawing-room for a few minutes before the gong had sounded, and had chattered gaily to every one. Ramage went up the Avenue, and she hurried along the path with a beating heart and a disagreeable sense of unsolved problems in her mind. She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. At this point a carriage with servants in sumptuous liveries was stationed. She knew it. “I have been bearing this—for your sake. I keep my finger on the pulse of things. This woman, contrary to his custom, he answered. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket.
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