“I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. ’ The eyes flashed momentarily. " "How did he take it?" "He did not seem to care. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife. “Yes. ” Sydney Courtlaw followed his timid knock. She had been so young then. ” For a fraction of a second the two young men hesitated. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square.
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