By Netta Syrett
173
For a moment there was no recognition in the long wistful gaze which Cecily unconsciously fixed upon her; then, all at once, she bent her head and smiled.
The crowd swept them apart, and in a few minutes Mrs. Yeo was being whirled towards the Metropole in a hansom.
"You're very quiet," her husband remarked presently. "Didn't you enjoy the play?"
She put her hand on his, impulsively, and, as she turned to him, he saw there were tears in her eyes.
"You didn't notice her face, Jim, as we passed? I did. I shall never forget it. Poor girl! Poor child!"
