‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. "I will not submit to be thus interrogated," said Winifred, angrily. She visited the corner that had been her own
little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed
into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered
that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she
had been wont to read her secret letters. ‘That is what she wants, is it?’
‘Do you blame her?’ he said stiffly. Her eyes still had
the fevered glow of sickness, yet she seemed in perfect
health. Hogarth, didn't I see
you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?"
"Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. “It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a
peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be
friends. Capes spoke casually of their plans for work. They
were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. Phillips Oppenheim
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