The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. He recalled with exasperating perplexity her clear, matter-of-fact tone as she talked about love-making being unconvincing. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. There’s always friction, conflict, unwilling concessions. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. Nor had Jack been idle all this time. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. An ancient smile lay on his lips.
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