” She assented, smiling. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. Blueskin, you are a true friend. He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free.
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