"
But it was not the opinion of the majority she cared about--it was the
respect of the one; the respect she had wilfully and spitefully
sacrificed.
Was it too late to recover it?
With regard to Gladys she was very sceptical. The reluctance to accept
Hamar as her future husband she still believed to be all pretence, and
she felt convinced that Gladys, in her heart of hearts, was only too
glad to get the chance of marrying any one so rich. This being so, she
could not bring herself to think she had done Shiel any actual wrong.
Gladys would never marry him. The only person she had harmed was
herself. She had lied, and Shiel was not the sort of man to condone an
offence of that sort easily. Still, weeping would do no good; it would
only make her ugly. She got up, had tea, and went out. She could think
better in the open air--it soothed her. For some reason or
other--custom perhaps--she strolled towards Cockspur Street, and there
ran into one of the few people she particularly wished to
avoid--Kelson.
He was delighted to see her.
"It's nectar to me to be out again," he said. "Jerusalem!--it was
awful in the Courts. Have supper with me."
It was a fine starlight night--the air cool and refreshing, and a wild
abandonment seized Lilian Rosenberg. She would have supped with the
devil had he asked her.
"I've nothing to lose now," she said to herself. "Nothing! I'll have
my fling."
"Where shall we go?" she asked.
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