She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. “I hope you will not compel me to say again that I do not know the man’s name, nor, to the best of my belief, have I ever seen him before in my life. Sebastian was physically beautiful, she reflected. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. When younger, and in better health, she must have been eminently lovely; and there were still the remains of great beauty about her.
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