Quita scanned the picture abstractedly for several seconds.
"Yes. He'll do," was her verdict. Then she flung the thing from her; and burying her face in the cushions sobbed with the heart-broken abandonment of a child.
"Oh, what a blind fool I was to come!" she lamented through her tears. "I don't believe he'll understand my madness. And if he doesn't . . . he'll never forgive me!"
[1] Account.
[2] Scullery man.
[3] As Memsahib pleases.
[4] Any one there! Bring tiffin.
[5] Not at home.
CHAPTER XXI.
"Here the lost hours the lost hours renew."—Rossetti.