’ ‘Because I was a servant in the vicomte’s house? Things have changed. That window there…. Jonathan smiled contemptuously. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. I can’t even carry a tune with a bucket. She read beautifully because the fixed form of the poem signified nothing. Griffin, who held the same office in Westminster Gatehouse were left in the Lodge. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. If there was such a thing as love at first sight, these two must epitomise it. She had worried in fear that the excitement would be too much for him.
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