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Updated: June 6, 2025
Lockyard laughed again, not very pleasantly. "And left poor Maurice in the lurch. That was rather cruel of you after all his chivalrous efforts to deliver you from bondage. And he so hard up, too." A flush of anger rose in the girl's face. She tilted her chin with the old proud gesture. "I should not have married him in any case," she said. "He made that quite impossible by his own act.
He drew nearer still, and possessed himself of her hands. "Yes, just that," he said. "It would take a little courage, but you have plenty of that. And the rest I would see to. It wouldn't be so very difficult, you know. Mrs. Lockyard would help us, and you would be absolutely safe with me. I haven't much to offer you, I admit. I'm as poor as a church mouse.
Lockyard at the club, she told herself with sudden petulance that life in town had lost all charm for her. Entering the dainty sitting-room that looked on to the river, she dropped into a chair by the window and stared out with her chin in her hands. The river was a blaze of gold. A line of long black barges was drifting down-stream in the wake of a noisy steam-tug.
I am burning to hear how it came about." Doris's old friend, Mrs. Lockyard, paused to flick the ash from her cigarette, and to laugh slyly at the girl's face of discomfiture. Doris also held a cigarette between her fingers, but she was only toying with it restlessly. "There isn't much to tell," she said. "We were married by special licence. I was not obliged to marry him. I chose to do so." Mrs.
"You asked me this afternoon why I was crying," she said. "And I I lied to you. You asked me, too, what Mrs. Lockyard said to me. And I lied again. I will tell you now, if if you will listen to me." Caryl was still holding her wrists. There was a hint of sternness in his attitude. "Well?" he said quietly. "What did she say?"
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