Dazed and confused, half mad with rage and despair, with a sense that Fate was joining her mocking laughter with that of the men round him.

Stafford took a glass of wine from the butler who advanced with it, and drinking it off, held it out to be refilled.

The man refilled it twice, and Stafford, his eyes aflame, almost pushed his way through the various groups to where his father stood.
"I have come for your congratulation, sir," he said, in a voice which, though not loud, was so clear as to break through the row.

"Miss Falconer has promised to be my wife!" A silence, so sudden as to be startling, fell upon the hot and crowded room; then, as Sir Stephen grasped his son's hand, a din of voices arose, an excited buzz of congratulations and good wishes.

Stafford faced them all, his face pale and set, his lips curved with a forced smile, his eyes flashing, but lit with a sombre fire.