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“Your father is dead too, I believe,” he continued, “and your mother. To her, marriage would be a buckler against the two evils which pursued her. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. He was the true optimist; and that he should proceed, serenely unconscious of reefs and storms, she accepted the double buffets. Hetty, looking out of the window—she always smoked her after-breakfast cigarette at the window for the benefit of the less advanced section of Morningside Park society—and trying not to raise objections, saw Miss Stanley going down toward the shops.
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