The years of civilisation seemed to have become as nothing.

The veneer of the City speculator had fallen away.
He was once more as he had been in those wilder days when men made their own laws, and a man's hold upon life was a slighter thing than his thirst for gold.

As such, he found the atmosphere of the little room choking him, he drew open the French windows of his little study and strode out into the perfumed and sunlit morning.

As such, he found himself face to face unexpectedly and without warning with the girl whom he had discovered sketching in the shrubbery the day before..