She tried to be casual. "By Heaven!" cried Darrell, "it is the poor fellow whom I placed in such jeopardy a short time ago. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. But a far greater affliction was in store for her. There is nothing but your pride which stands between us. Might we ask you if you have ever seen him, if you knew him at all before this evening?” She stood up suddenly, and turning her back to them, looked steadily out of the window. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. The settlements which he has spoken of, too, are most munificent. The wings stopped.
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