Stella was hungry of heart, and she let the hunger take her.

She had her blind, wild hour or two; she was a fool; she was--well, everything the moralists choose to call her.

But she has been paying for her hour ever since, and will go on paying.

Now, if I can only hit your yellow ball from here, I shall have rather a good game on." Lady Splay succeeded and, carrying the four croquet balls with her, went round the rest of the hoops and pegged out.
"I must go in and change," she said, and suddenly, in a voice of melancholy, she cried, "Oh, I do wish----" and stopped.
"What ?" "Oh, it doesn't matter," she answered.

But her eyes were upon the window, where Joan Whitworth stood in full view in all her disfiguring panoply.