It’s—Mrs. The door was opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several sizes too large for him. To be sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if all the world knew it. Luckily, Sir James was so much engrossed by his own task, that both the remark and gesture escaped him. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. After passing Tottenham Court Road, very few houses were to be seen on the right hand, opposite Wardour Street it was open country. She felt the softest touch caress her cheek, and a wave of tenderness engulfed Melusine.
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