O'Higgins returned to town and made a night of it, nothing very wild, nothing very desperate. He’s a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John—doesn’t know what an artist is. Even her debt to him was a triviality now. And what took you to Remenham House?’ ‘I shall come to that presently,’ said Gerald cautiously. “I like your brother better than any other man I know,” Anna said at last. Good riddance to bad rubbish. She is very bright. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume.
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