They sipped tea.
"The tea is doing me so much good," Bertha said, "I begin to feel equal to the most complicated reflections.

And so you really believe that Mr.
Franks is on the way to perdition, and that you are the cause of it ?" Rosamund did not reply.

She had half averted her look; her brows were knit in an expression of trouble; she bit her lower lip.

A moment passed, and-- "Suppose we go into the garden," she said, rising.

"Don't you feel it a little close here ?" They strolled about the paths.