n are never
blind with the complete masculine blindness) looked on him with some
pity; and she felt pity for herself too. It was a rejection, a casting
out; nothing new to her. But she who supposed all her sensibility dead
by this time, discovered in herself a resentment of this ultimate
betrayal. She had no resignation for this one. With a sort of mental
sullenness she said to herself: "Well, I am here. I am here without any
nonsense. It is not my fault that I am a mere worthless object of
pity."

And these things which she could tell herself with a clear conscience
served her better than the passionate obstinacy of purpose could serve
Roderick Anthony. She was much more sure of herself than he was. Such
are the advantages of mere rectitude over the most exalted generosity.

And so they went out to get married, the people of the house where she
lodged having no suspicion of anything of the sort. They were only
excited at a "gentleman friend" (a very fine man too) calling on Miss
Smith for the first time since she had come to live in the house. When
she returned, for she did come back alone, there were allusions made to
that outing. She had to take her meals with these rather vulgar people.
The woman of the house, a scraggy, genteel person, tried even to
provoke confidences. Flora's white face with the deep blue eyes did not
strike their hearts as it did the heart of Captain Anthony, as the very
face of the suffering world. Her pained reserve had no power to awe
them into decency.

Well, she returned alone--as in fact might have been expected. After
leaving the Registry Office Flora de Barral and Roderick Anthony had
gone for a walk in a park. It must have been an East-End park but I am
not sure. Anyway that's what they did. It was a sunny day. He said to
her: "Everything I have in the world belongs to you. I have seen to
that without troubling my brother-in-law. They have no call to
interfere."

She walked with her hand resting lightly on his arm. He had offered it
to her on coming out of the Registry Office, and she had accepted it
silently. Her head drooped, she seemed to be turning matters over in
her mind. She said, alluding to the Fynes: "They have been very good to
me." At that he exclaimed:

"They have never understood you. Well, not properly. My sister is not
a bad woman, but..."

Flora didn't protest; asking herself whether he imagined that he himself
understood her so much be