So far she had the utmost difficulty in getting on to that vitally important matter. “Is Miss Stanley coming up with us?” “I go second,” she said, “and change at Wimbledon. He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence. She shook her head, almost breaking a smile. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. ” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt.
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