The lad looked alarmed. Not that he deliberately courted danger; it was rather the searcher, seeking analysis, the why and wherefore of this or that invading emotion. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. You cannot tell whether you know him or not until you have seen him. Kneebone made his appearance.
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