Then Jacob was left there, in the shallow arm-chair, alone with Masham?
Anderson?
Simeon?
Oh, it was Simeon.

The others had all gone.
"...

Julian the Apostate...." Which of them said that and the other words murmured round it?
But about midnight there sometimes rises, like a veiled figure suddenly woken, a heavy wind; and this now flapping through Trinity lifted unseen leaves and blurred everything.

"Julian the Apostate"-- and then the wind.

Up go the elm branches, out blow the sails, the old schooners rear and plunge, the grey waves in the hot Indian Ocean tumble sultrily, and then all falls flat again.
So, if the veiled lady stepped through the Courts of Trinity, she now drowsed once more, all her draperies about her, her head against a pillar.
"Somehow it seems to matter." The low voice was Simeon's.
The voice was even lower that answered him.