How little she had known of England, her own father's country! How ridiculously little she had really known of men, counting them all brutes like Ladislaus and his friends, or feckless fools like poor Mimo! What an impossible attitude was this one she had worn always of arrogant ignorance! Something should have told her that these people were not like that.

Something should have warned her, when she first saw him, that Tristram was a million miles above anything in the way of his sex that she had yet known.

Then she stopped playing, and deliberately went over and looked in the glass.

Yes, she was certainly beautiful, and quite young.

She might live until she were seventy or eighty, in the natural course of events, and the whole of life would be one long, dreary waste if she might not have her Love.