Browning's poem, 'The Mask':
"Behind no prison-grate, she said,
Which slurs the sunshine half a mile,
Live captives so uncomforted
As souls behind a smile."
As to the Merrifields, there was no chance of seeing them, for Sir
Richard had gone to India in some official capacity, and no doubt,
as everyone said, they would take good care to marry Freda out
there. Derrick had not seen her since that trying February at Bath,
long ago. Yet I fancy she was never out of his thoughts.
And so the years rolled on, and Derrick worked away steadily, giving
his books to the world, accepting the comforts and discomforts of an
author's life, laughing at the outrageous reports that were in
circulation about him, yet occasionally, I think, inwardly wincing
at them, and learning from the number of begging letters which he
received, and into which he usually caused searching inquiry to be
made, that there are in the world a vast number of undeserving poor.
One day I happened to meet Lady Probyn at a garden-party; it was at
the same house on Campden Hill where I had once met Freda, and
perhaps it was the recollection of this which prompted me to enquire
after her.
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