You will not mind if she joins us ?" "I am going!" Doris announced abruptly--"I really only looked in to see if there were any letters." She dropped her cigarette with determination and turned to the nearest door.
It was true that she had run into the club for her correspondence, but having met Mrs.Lockyard she had been almost compelled to linger, albeit unwillingly.

Now from the depths of her soul she regretted the impulse that had borne her thither.

She vowed to herself that she would not enter the club again so long as Mrs.Lockyard remained in town.
Three weeks had elapsed since her marriage; three weeks of shopping in Paris with Caryl somewhere in the background, looking on but never advising.
He had been very kind on the whole, she was fain to admit, but she was further from understanding him now than she had ever been.

He had retired into his shell so completely that it seemed unlikely that he would ever again emerge, and she did not dare to make the first advance.
Her return to London had been one of the greatest ordeals she had ever faced, but she had endured it unflinchingly, and had found that London had already almost forgotten the eccentricity of her marriage.

In the height of the season memories are short.
Caryl had taken a flat overlooking the river, and here they had settled down.