For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. “I ought to have done anything! “What’s a man for? “Friendship!” He doubled up his fist, and seemed to contemplate thrusting it through the window. That's the way she strikes me. Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. ” “Why?” she asked. ” “You what?” she repeated incredulously. What reassured her, however, more than anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. " So saying, he unlocked the door and strode out of the room.
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