Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. Her father’s step quickened to a trot. “I heard the other day that she’d been taken in by some cad of a fellow who was cutting a great dash in Paris, personating Meysey Hill, the great railway man. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. You have shown an almost feverish anxiety to eliminate from your personal appearance all that reminded me of you —when we first met. She leaped to a world of shabby knowledge, of furtive base realizations.
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