And ever after it struck him that her backward smile as she disappeared was charged with some special significance. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side. He went to the door. The spinsters had purchased one grass-linen tablecloth; the girl and the young man had purchased nothing. “You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. At length, she suddenly started to her feet; and before Winifred could prevent her, staggered up to Thames. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. I haven't forgotten her previous history. I would that you were my own.
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