"A lady to see you, my lord," replied the man.
"I'm out."
"That's what I said, my lord."
"Well?"
"The lady said that was all nonsense; she 'ad called at the Sanatorium, and they'd said you was 'ere."
"Then her name's Delarayne," said Lord Henry.
"Yes, that's it, my lord."
"Very well, then, show her up."
"That woman's a wonder," St. Maur exclaimed. "It is a boiling hot day; at any moment there may be a storm; there was probably no fly at the station,—there never is when I come,—and she must have walked the whole of the two miles in the dust. She has an eye on you, my friend."
"Yes," said Lord Henry, "and by the time a woman has her eye on you, she usually has her claws in you as well. You needn't go," he added, as he noticed St. Maur preparing to leave. "But she's an admirable woman. Good taste amounts almost to heroism in these women who battle with age until their very last breath."