It was painful to want him so much. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. Her prevailing effect was one of quiet and complete assurance, as though she knew all about everything, and was only restrained by her instinctive delicacy from telling what she knew. Wild in his own domain. Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. In the retrospect she was amazed to think how things had gone to pieces, for at the outset she had been quite prepared to go home again upon terms.
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