Cheveney was looking after her, I think, then. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right. "Sir Rowland, I salute you as your nephew. "Sir Cecil is no more. I cannot protect you. The flat was apparently empty. He had finally put aside The Lilac Sunbonnet, gone into his study, lit the gas fire, and written the letter that had brought these unsatisfactory relations to a head. Springing upon the box, he told the coachman to make the best of his way to Saint Giles's. . " He departed, musing.
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