"His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. ‘And now,’ he said, drawing Madame to the seat, and contriving to sit close enough that his anatomy touched hers at several points, ‘let us talk about you, madame. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes—now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard—the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture. . I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. ’ ‘Why should you care?’ demanded Roding, exasperated.
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