“Well, I don’t think you told him as much as that, did you?” Lady Lescelles asked. Here he was almost stunned by the deafening clamour resounding on all sides. The room in which this interview took place had a sordid and miserable look. She parted the curtains to find him standing there. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. I have always hated it. But at length, there was a click, and with a swish, the panel of painted books swung outward from the wall.
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