“But why is it preposterous?” asked Ann Veronica, and fiddled with a pipe on the mantel. Her father for fifteen years, and you now for the rest of her life! Tell her you're a thief. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. She was radiant. Capes would come to these teas; he evidently liked to come, and he would appear in the doorway of the preparation-room, a pleasing note of shyness in his manner, hovering for an invitation. Thames did not try to cheer her. ‘Oh, you are making a game with me.
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