" "Well, take a chair," rejoined Kneebone. He had need of all the inexhaustible energy of his character to support him through his toilsome walk over the wet grass, or along the slippery ploughed land. Sebastian dared not approach her. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it.
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