The door popped open with a sigh. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. The spinsters had purchased one grass-linen tablecloth; the girl and the young man had purchased nothing. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words. Sheppard. It has been proved.
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