‘One does not blow off the head of a man with whom one is in love, en effet. Wood fared still worse. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. ” “Well, why not?” Lady Lescelles asked, smiling. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. “All right so far,” she said to herself.
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