Kneebone—she was too well acquainted; having, more than once, been obliged to repel his advances; and, though his impertinence would have given her little concern at another season, it now added considerably to her distraction. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. "You know this is a pet project. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. Her education was remarkable in that it was overdeveloped here and underdeveloped there: the woman of thirty and the child of ten were always getting in each other's way. Now you can understand why I have been obliged to——” “Yes, yes, I understand that,” Courtlaw interrupted.
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