It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. He had. Why, there was drama in the very dress she wore! There was drama in the unusual beauty of her, hidden away all these years on a forgotten isle! "You've been lonely, too. Perhaps if I had watched over her more closely, things would have been different. It was the bitterest moment of her life. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society.
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