She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. ‘I do not know your Gérard. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. After you went he got up and took refuge in the preparation-room. ‘Jarvis Remenham was your mother’s father. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. ’ As if to bear her out, the door opened at this precise moment to admit Saling, who barely announced Captain Roding before the man himself strode into the room.
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