People of your sort—I don’t want the instincts to—to rush our situation. It looks so French to be affectionate. To divide the agony into two spheres so that one would mitigate the other. Heaven alone knows why. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. She had asked about that already, and her father had replied, evasively: “We’ll have to see about that, little Vee; we’ll have to see about that. ” She sat very still. He hesitated. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. Right now my heart is occupied. “What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured.
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