She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife. “Here’s something rather good,” he said, and with a start and an effort she took his place at the microscope, while he stood beside her and almost leaning over her. In the end, resolution triumphed, as it was sure to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laughed at his fears. For the present, he murmured his farewells, and turning, caught Hilary’s eye and walked away, crossing the ballroom to move into the less opulent, and less crowded, saloon next door where servants were dispensing refreshments. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. She sank upon her knees and unbuttoned his coat. "I've been wondering, until this morning, if you were real. This morning his entourage (as he jestingly called it) consisted of the girl, two spinsters (Prudence and Angelina Jedson), prim and doubtful of the world, and the young man who appeared to be considerably the worse for the alcohol he had consumed. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination.
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