A small voice greeted her, hissing. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. "No," replied Jack, peremptorily. ‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. The day was sunny and pleasant, devoid of chill winds. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. There was question in Gerald’s gaze as it met hers, and apology in his voice.
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