Your uncle—our uncle is with him. Listen to me, Thames. . She put her clothes back on, 118 lipstick smeared all over her face. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. There was a long silence between them. At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly.
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