“Yes, I see that. " Jack could stand no more. It rather astonished him. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. Without hindrance—present occupation. Passing thought. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. A bowl of roses, just brought by Ann Veronica, adorned the communal dressing-table, and Ann Veronica was particularly trim in preparation for a call she was to make with her aunt later in the afternoon. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion.
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