" The lad made no answer, but left the room. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. “I saw you in a sort of sloping, slippery place, holding on by your hands and slipping. “I wonder,” she said, “how much you care. I say again, grace à vous. " "Hurt her? It would tear her to pieces; God knows she has had enough.
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