Here you only waste your time. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. Winifred, accordingly, left the room, and a servant being despatched to the nearest tavern, soon afterwards returned with a crown bowl of the ambrosian fluid. Gerald switched to French. And if he won’t—” But she did not give even unspoken words to the alternative at that time. “But your sister?” he asked. A pane of glass was shivered by each stone. He had been quite right to sit down. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. Wood, delighted at the idea. ‘She’s little more than a schoolgirl, just out. I’m the sort of dog, if you turn it out of the room it lies down on the mat at the door. He was angry.
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