"That was long ago, wasn't it?"
"Long ago."
"Was she married then?"
"No, not then."
"Here in London?"
"Yes, in London. I was only a barrister then with my way to make and she a famous beauty." (Sir John is speaking with a forced levity that doesn't deceive even the ushers.) "She married Harding of the Guards. They went to India. And there he spent her fortune—and broke her heart." Sir John sighs.
"You have seen her since?"
"She has never written you?"
"Only once. She sent her boy home and wrote to me for help. That was how I took him as my secretary."