She had a great affection for Joan, and that boy was indeed a knight.

"I saw Martin walking away from your house the night you dined with Gilbert at the Brevoort--I was told about that!--and there was something in his eyes that wasn't the least bit cool.

Also I rode in the Park with him one morning a week ago, and I thought he looked ill and haggard and--if you must know--starved.

No one would say that you aren't modern and civilized,--and those are tame words,--but if Martin were to come in now and make a clean breast of it, you'd be surprised to find how little he is of either of those things, if I know anything about him." "Then, my dear," replied Joan, making a very special ring of smoke, "you know more about him than I do." Alice began to walk about.

A form of marriage--that was the phrase that stuck in her mind.