"She has always lived this life, Sir George. It isn't any different, is it?"
"You have a ranch in America. It's just the thing. Why don't you take her there?"
"She wouldn't go. She is joined to her idols and I'm not one of them, Sir George."
The doctor was standing at the corner of the table. He satisfied himself that they were alone before speaking, then he bent toward the young man and said quietly:
"Of course no one knows it as yet but me; but you ought to know it; in fact, you will know it eventually, when perhaps it is too late, so——"
Hal looked up from his periodical.
"You alarm me, Sir George. What is it?"
The physician's eye fell upon the paper in Hal's hands.
"Allow me," he said and held out his hand for it.
Hal watched him deliberately turn the pages. He seemed to take a painfully long time to do it. Meantime the fog seemed to have penetrated the walls and to have taken possession of the place; the lights grew dim and the fire loomed ghostly in the dim distance. The air was thick and Hal seemed to breathe with difficulty. Ah, at last the doctor found what he was looking for. He handed it back and pointed to the article. There must be some mistake. He had already glanced through that article. It concerned an unfortunate woman who was found in Hyde Park under the influence of——