"Zounds! what's that!" he cried, as the noise of a scuffle was heard behind them. It was a cheerful, irresponsible, shamelessly hard-up family in the key of faded green and flattened purple, and the girls went on from the High School to the Fadden Art School and a bright, eventful life of art student dances, Socialist meetings, theatre galleries, talking about work, and even, at intervals, work; and ever and again they drew Ann Veronica from her sound persistent industry into the circle of these experiences. She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. And Miss Miniver fell discussing whether Goopes or Bernard Shaw or Tolstoy or Doctor Tumpany or Wilkins the author had the more powerful and perfect mind in existence at the present time. Just as he had told Gerald would be the case, there was nothing of interest to hear, especially as he had met the girl in London only last night. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness.
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