Mr. Landers lifted his hand in a gesture of reassurance; the cloud was lifted from his brow. “After that, we all know what your life was. You’ll forgive my putting it bluntly: but your living in that quiet way--all these years--gradually produced a change of opinion ... told immensely in your favour. Even among the Clephane relations ... especially those who had glimpses of you abroad ... or heard of you when they were there. Some of the family distinctly disapproved of--of John’s attitude; his persistent refusal ... yes, the Tresseltons even, and the Drovers--I know they all did what they could--especially Enid Drover--” Her blood rushed up and the pulses drummed in her temples. “If I cry,” she thought, “it will upset him--” but the tears rose in a warm gush about her heart. “Enid Drover? I never knew--” “Oh, yes; so that for a long time I hoped ... we all hoped....” She began to tremble. Even her husband’s sister Enid Drover! She had remembered the Hendrik Drovers, both husband and wife, as among the narrowest, the most inexorable of the Clephane tribe. But then, it suddenly flashed across her, if it hadn’t been for the episode with Chris perhaps she might have come back years before. What mocking twists fate gave to one’s poor little life-pattern! “Well--?” she questioned, breathless. He met her gaze now without a shadow of constraint. “Oh, well, you know what John was--always the slave of anything he’d once said. Once he’d found a phrase for a thing, the phrase ruled him. He never could be got beyond that first vision of you ... you and Davies....” “Never--?” “No. All the years after made no difference to him. He wouldn’t listen. ‘Burnt child dreads the fire’ was all he would say. And after he died his mother kept it up. She seemed to regard it as a duty to his memory.... She might have had your life spread out before her eyes, day by day, hour by hour ... it wouldn’t have changed her.” He reddened again. “Some of your friends kept on trying ... but nothing made any difference.”