"Yes, one—the greatest of all, in my opinion." She got up and moved across the room, he pivoting slowly round to watch her.
She came to a stand by her writing-table, and began to turn over a packet of letters that lay there. She did it mechanically, with hands that shook a little. Her face was turned away from him.
He waited for a few seconds; then, as she still remained silent, he spoke.
"What is this last obstacle, Mrs. Denvers?"
She answered him with her head bent, her fingers still fluttering the papers before her.
"You," she said, in a low voice. "You yourself."
"Me!" said Lord Ronald, in evident astonishment.
She nodded without speaking.
"But—I'm sorry," he said pathetically, "I'm afraid I don't quite follow you. I am not famed for my wits, as you know."
She laughed at that, unexpectedly and quite involuntarily; and though she was instantly serious again the laugh served to clear away some of her embarrassment.