Stella had known him as the merest of friends before.

She had met him here and there at a supper party, at a dancing club, at some Bohemian country house; and then suddenly he had guessed what others had not, and foolishly had gone out of his way to be kind.
"She would have died if I hadn't travelled with her," Luttrell argued silently.

"She would have thrown herself out of the carriage, or when she reached home she would have----" and his argument stopped, and he glanced at her uneasily.
Undisciplined, was the epithet she had used of herself.

You never knew what crazy thing she might do.

There was daintiness but no order in her life; the only law she knew was given to her by a fastidious taste.
"Of course, Wub, I have always known that you never cared for me as I do for you.