Then he told Wilson to bring wine and sandwiches
into the library for Lady Kitty, who had been detained by an accident on
the river the night before, and was much exhausted. No visitors were to
be admitted, except, of course, Lady Tranmore or Miss French.
When he returned to the library he found Kitty with crimson cheeks, her
hands locked behind her, walking up and down. As soon as she saw him she
motioned to him imperiously.
[Illustration: "HE GATHERED HER IN HIS ARMS"]
"Shut the door, William. I have something very important to say to you."
He obeyed her, and she walked up to him deliberately. He saw the
fluttering of her heart beneath her white dress--the crushed, bedraggled
dress, which still in its soft elegance, its small originalities, spoke
Kitty from head to foot. But her manner was quite calm and collected.
"William, we must separate! You must send me away."
He started.
"What do you mean?"
"What I say. It is--it is intolerable--that I should ruin your life like
this."
"Don't, please, exaggerate, Kitty! There is no question of ruin. I shall
make my way when the time comes, and Lady Parham will have nothing to
say to it!"
"No! Nothing will ever go well--while I'm there--like a millstone round
your neck.
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