“This is all very well,” she said, “but two out of the three are rank deserters— and if the papers tell the truth the third is as bad. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. “I have had a trying evening and I need rest. Nicholas had not dared to tell his father about the Valade girl. ‘Ah, now I may see what damage Gérard has done to me,’ she muttered, crossing to the table and putting her hand to the sore place at her neck.
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