Joan watched her as she descended the great
staircase. She moved with a curious, gliding motion, pausing at times
for the people to make way for her.
CHAPTER XVI
It was a summer's evening; Joan had dropped in at the Greysons and had
found Mary alone, Francis not having yet returned from a bachelor dinner
at his uncle's, who was some big pot in the Navy. They sat in the
twilight, facing the open French windows, through which one caught a
glimpse of the park. A great stillness seemed to be around them.
The sale and purchase of the _Evening Gazette_ had been completed a few
days before. Greyson had been offered the alternative of gradually and
gracefully changing his opinions, or getting out; and had, of course,
chosen dismissal. He was taking a holiday, as Mary explained with a
short laugh.
"He had some shares in it himself, hadn't he?" Joan asked.
"Oh, just enough to be of no use," Mary answered. "Carleton was rather
decent, so far as that part of it was concerned, and insisted on paying
him a fair price. The market value would have been much less; and he
wanted to be out of it.
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