"I'm glad to hear you say you are a friend.

I am, too, and shall always be proud of having known him, a most brilliant, charming man." "I think of giving a dinner to him when he comes out, Lady Dorothy," I said.
"I hope you'll ask me," she answered bravely.

"I should be glad to come.
I always admired and liked him; I feel dreadfully sorry for him." The delicate one adroitly changed the conversation and coffee came in, but Miss Stanley said to me: "I wish I had known him, there must have been great good in him to win such friendship." "Great charm in any case," I replied, "and that's rarer among men than even goodness." The first news that came to us from prison was not altogether bad.

He had broken down and was in the infirmary, but was getting better.

The brave Stewart Headlam, who had gone bail for him, had visited him, the Stewart Headlam who was an English clergyman, and yet, wonder of wonders, a Christian.