Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. You understand that term?” Ann Veronica smiled faintly. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. “I dare not,” she answered. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. She heard their feet and muffled voices. ‘Neither do I,’ he responded, frowning, ‘but for Gerald’s sake, I’ll do anything I can. It’s these damned novels. . His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes.
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