10/28 Such was his condition to the eyes of a friend; to himself he was the common hopeless lover who sighed for a stony mistress. Businesslike leather pouches stood in the hall, and an unwontedly large pile of letters lay on a table. The drawing-room was the same as ever, but in the dining-room an escritoire had been established which groaned under a burden of papers. Mr. It was a strong face, but a cold and a stupid one, and his eyes had the glassy hardness of the man without vision. |