Chapter 18

She signalled him to sit down again, and thenceforward she began to pay and pay, and one by one the letters were returned to her--all except the only one that counted. On the loneliest corner of her pretty little Berkshire estate was a small cottage, rented by a French artist, who spent occasional week-ends at the place. He kept no servants, for the simple reason that his language could not be understood. Mrs. Verriner had had one or two talks with this long-haired gentleman with the twirling black moustache, and i…