She used to play violin, you know. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. . The idea of your being a failure would never have occurred to me. But it's best to be on the safe side. ” She could not go on, for she was laughing and crying at the same time. Nor, he would wager, had the heroic Monsieur Valade, who had rescued her from that life and brought her to England, taught her in that short time all that Gerald was certain she knew of men. The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy.
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