“I promise, Lucy. “See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. Meysey Hill—never your wife. It could not be a legal marriage. I don’t want to Bowdlerize Shakespeare. Do you know how late it is?” She nodded. Why, there was drama in the very dress she wore! There was drama in the unusual beauty of her, hidden away all these years on a forgotten isle! "You've been lonely, too.
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