From that moment and for the rest of all the long day and evening, Joel Mazarine commanded the unvarying interest of two members of the McMahon family.
Orlando Guise had had a long day, but one that somehow made him whistle or sing to himself most of the time.

In a way, half a lifetime had gone since the day before, when he had first seen what he called to himself "the captive maid." He had never been so happy in his life; and yet he knew that he had not the faintest right to be happy.

The girl who had so upset his self-control as to make him stumble on her doorstep was the wife of another man.

It was, of course, silly to call him "another man," because he seemed a million miles away from any sphere in which Orlando lived.

Yet he was another man; and he was also the husband of the girl who had made Orlando feel for the very first time a strange singing in his veins.