But she had thrown him over.

In a little while he would have to let Mannering--for who would buy an estate in such a pickle ?--sell his collections, and go and live in a flat in West Kensington.

Then he hoped his enemies--Chicksands in particular--would be satisfied.
But these, to do him justice, were not the chief thoughts, not the considerations in his mind that smarted most.

Another woman secretary or woman accountant--for, after all, clever women with business training are now as thick as blackberries--might have helped him to put his affairs straight; but she would not have been a Miss Bremerton, with her scholarship, her taste, her love of the beautiful things that he loved.

He seemed to see her fair skin flushing with pleasure as they went through a Greek chorus together, or to watch her tenderly handling a bronze, or holding a Tanagra figure to the light.
Of course some stupid creatures might think he was falling in love with her--wanting to marry her.