Chapter XVII THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE” “By-the-bye,” his neighbour asked him languidly, “who is our hostess?” “Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison answered, “unless I have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong house. But what are you doing here?” “Old Père Runeval met me on your doorstep, and he would not let me go. What about your luggage?” “I could get a few of my things, at any rate,” she said. I wonder why on earth the curtains are drawn. He really deserves a better fate, does he not? He is so beautifully persistent. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. She attempted by a sheer act of will to end the scene, to will herself out of it anywhere. “That is my dream of you,” said Manning, warming. She felt her skills make a belated return. “We will do Paris like the tourists, and thank God here comes dinner. ‘I do not wish to be like him, but it is entirely reasonable that it should be so. At any rate she must see me. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind.
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