A long, dimly-lighted gallery led away into the
distance. A few doors opened on to it, and at one of these the servant
stopped and knocked. A tall gentleman opened the door himself, and,
begging Ideala to enter, bade her be seated at a writing-table which
stood in the middle of the room, and himself took the chair in front of
it, and looked at Ideala's card which lay before him. Another
gentleman, whom Lorrimer introduced as "My brother Julian," lounged on
a high-backed chair at the other side of the table. The room was a good
size, but so crowded with things that there was scarcely space to turn
round. The light fell full upon Lorrimer as he sat facing the window,
and Ideala saw a fair man of about thirty, not at all the sort of man
she had imagined, and quite impossible for her purpose.
An awkward pause followed her entrance. She was unable to tell him the
real reason of her visit, and at a loss to invent a fictitious one.
"I don't suppose you know in the least who I am," she said, seeing that
he glanced at her card again, and then she explained, telling him what
his cousin had written to her.
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