“I suppose I should let go if I had. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. As it is, I'm not sorry for the blunder. He fell back upon the pillows with a little moan, clutching the slim white fingers fiercely. The eldest, Constance, was lost, by the carelessness of a servant, during her infancy, and has never since been heard of: the youngest, Aliva, is the present Lady Trafford. Enschede—that's a queer name.
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