He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. ‘Certainly you are imbecile. “I don’t see why I should take it secondhand. Think—think of that engagement!” Their talk had come to eloquent silences that contradicted all he had to say. She suspected that he would take a mistress just as soon as they returned to Florence. Cathy reached out and touched Lucy’s chin with her two fingers, gently commanding her attention.
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