“You’ve no right to badger me like this, Veronica,” he said. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. You appear to be amongst those strong enough in all ordinary matters, but who seem to think it quite natural and proper to give in at once and play the weakling directly—one cares. “You know what a fearful old prig Ferringhall is, always goes about as though the whole world were watching him? We tried to show him around Paris, but he wouldn’t have any of it. “But your sister?” he asked. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. I can't concentrate on my work. Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said.
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