Even our coarseness. Stanley, in his effort to seem at ease, took entire possession of the hearthrug. “That’s all very well when one isn’t the material experimented upon,” Ann Veronica had remarked. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. A scene now ensued, highly characteristic of the age, and the occasion. Gianfrancesco was not ugly, in fact, perhaps he was rather handsome after all. Then instinct took over.
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