“Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger. ” “Don’t say that,” Sydney begged. “Why can’t we propagate by sexless spores, as the ferns do? We restrict each other, we badger each other, friendship is poisoned and buried under it!. ’ ‘Yes, but in fact you’ve offered me far more entertainment than any French spy could have done. No doubt— because he did not understand you—he thought you had run away with someone. She could hardly speak to me; she insisted relentlessly upon a separation. “No,” she answered, reluctantly. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly.
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