Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. “I’m five years older than you, and no end wiser, being a man. And yet for all that— It got into Ann Veronica’s nights at last and kept her awake, the perplexing contrast between the advanced thought and the advanced thinker. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. It was a fetching gown that stretched tightly in a cream colored swath over her breasts and expanded to a full skirt with a petticoat.
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