” “Did it come—in Paris?” “I do not know,” he answered. Basically a kindly man but made cynical and derisive by sordid contacts, O'Higgins had almost forgotten that there was such a thing as unselfishness. " And he strode out of the place. I have given up painting. ’ ‘So I heard. ’ ‘I’m afraid you are right. I mean I’m not a good specimen of a woman. He was a London man of business, spending a small legacy in Paris. Jolly hard life for a girl, getting a living. And I've made up my mind that a husband ought to believe only half that he hears, and nothing that he sees. ” She shook her head. She flew up the covered stairs and knocked upon his door.
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