infinite point with which, as she felt, she exclaimed: "And this is what you call coming often?"
Sir Claude met her, delightfully, in the same fine spirit. "My dear old man, don't make me a scene—I assure you it's what every woman does that I look at. Let us have some fun—it 's a lovely day: clap on something smart and come out with me—then we 'll talk it over quietly." They were on their way five minutes later to Hyde Park, and nothing that even in the good days at her mother's they had ever talked over had more of the perfection of security than his present prompt explanations. He was at his best in such an office and with the exception of Mrs. Wix the only person she had met in her life who ever explained. With him, however, the act had an authority transcending the wisdom of woman. It all came back, all the plans that always failed, all the rewards and bribes that she was perpetually paying for in advance and perpetually out of pocket by afterwards—the whole complication to be dealt with introduced her on each occasion afresh to the question of money. Even she herself almost knew how it would have expressed the
