She began to act. “You will have some tea?” she asked. ” She said warmly. She could hardly speak to me; she insisted relentlessly upon a separation. Anywhere! Moonlight and music—pleasing, you know, but quite unnecessary. She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. The horns were the worst, slipping in and out of tune and rushing the easy sections, fighting everyone else. To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. That's the way it goes. Not much. Fortescue tried to act embarrassment in order to conceal its reality, and Ann Veronica went on to ask a string of questions about acting, and whether her sister would act, and was she beautiful enough for it, and who would make her dresses, and so on. It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side.
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