One of these, a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool. " "What did I say?" "Only one word," she said, offering her first white lie. Infested by every description of vagabond and miscreant, it was, perhaps, a few degrees worse than the rookery near Saint Giles's and the desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill in our own time. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. Marriage was a taboo subject between them. Ann Veronica found her attention wandering a little as he told her that he was not ashamed to feel almost slavish in the presence of really beautiful people, and then they came to the Michaelmas daisies. "You've given me more than the amount, Sir Rowland," he said, after he had twice counted them, "or I've missed my reckoning. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. She had unaccountable gleams of sympathy with and liking for him.
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