“Come, Sibyl,” said her brother impatiently. He hated his mother’s affectations.

They went out into the flickering, windblown sunlight and strolled down the dreary Euston Road. The passersby glanced in wonder at the sullen heavy youth who, in coarse, ill-fitting clothes, was in the company of such a graceful, refined-looking girl. He was like a common gardener walking with a rose.