There she would wander about in the kindly darkness. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. May I be permitted, as a very old and very dear friend of your lamented parent, whose loss I shall ever deplore, to ask you one question?" "Undoubtedly," replied Winifred. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. She contrived to break down the barriers of shyness at last in one direction, and talked one night of love and the facts of love with Miss Miniver. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise.
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