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And in that hour of his agony her eyes had told that she loved and wanted him. It was eight months before they met again. Varick's friends thought him changed, and quite possibly he was.
That thought was, how extraordinary had been Varick's transformation from what a censorious world might have called an unscrupulous adventurer into a generous man of position and substance all owing to the fact that some two years ago he had drifted across an unknown woman in a foreign hotel!
Waythorn dropped into another chair, staring vaguely ahead of him. On his dressing-table stood a photograph of Alice, taken when he had first known her. She was Alice Varick then how fine and exquisite he had thought her! Those were Varick's pearls about her neck. At Waythorn's instance they had been returned before her marriage.
Still, she's a venomous old woman, and if I were you I'd write her a solicitor's letter." That little conversation, which had taken place more than six months ago, came back, word for word, to Varick's mind, as he walked sharply up and down the platform, trying to get warm. It was strange how Miss Pigchalke and her vigorous, unpleasant personality haunted him.
A follower of that now forgotten science, phrenology, would have been impressed by Lionel Varick's head. It was large and well-shaped, with a great deal of almost golden hair, now showing a white thread or two, which did not, however, detract from his look of youth.
And oh, Sir Lyon, it was horrible!" "Try and think it was not Mrs. Varick's spirit," he said impressively. "Try and tell yourself that it was either a dream, a waking phantom of your brain, or or " "Or what?" asked Helen eagerly. But there are thoughts, questions, suspicions that no human being willingly puts into words.
Varick's late lady, the one who used to live here " Pegler stopped speaking suddenly, and went on brushing her mistress's hair more vigorously. "Yes, Pegler?" Miss Farrow spoke with a touch of impatience. "What about Mrs. Lionel Varick?" "Well, ma'am, I don't suppose you'll credit it, but quite a number of them do say that her sperrit was there during this afternoon.
But he had noticed that Sir Lyon and Miss Brabazon seemed to have a good deal to say to one another. Women, so he told himself ruefully, like to be "My lady." As the doctor came out of his room he decided to go in for a moment and see Bubbles Dunster. Somehow he did not feel quite easy about her. He wondered, uncomfortably, if there could be anything in Varick's painful suspicion.
He had answered: "Men don't vow eternal friendships in the way I'm told young ladies do; but, yes, I hope I am a great friend of Lionel Varick's. I've a high opinion of him, Miss Bubbles, and I've seen him under circumstances that test a man." She had looked at him fixedly while he said these words, and then she had opened and shut her eyes in a very odd way.
The things bought were exquisite, but a little colourless woman could wear them all with advantage to her restrictions of type. As the brougham drove down Bond Street, Betty called Lady Anstruthers' attention to more than one passer-by. "Look, Rosy," she said. "There is Mrs. Treat Hilyar in the second carriage to the right. You remember Josie Treat Hilyar married Lord Varick's son."
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