She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse. She felt the bedsprings coil as he moved from his seated position, entranced. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. The next moment, an exclamation was heard in the voice of Thames. "Remove him to the Middle Stone Hold,—watch over him night and day, do you mind?" "I do, Sir. " "A miniature! Of whom?" "That I can't say," replied Jack, mysteriously. “That thing’s going on,” she told herself.
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