Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. “Do you know,” she said, “that every one is remarking how ill you look. If we were set upon I could not defend you. Either that or some other person also obtained admission here and shot him, and that person is either still upon the premises or escaped without your notice. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male.
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