He refused. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. For each costume she had devised a suitable form of matrimonial refusal. Then she cursed herself for his eyes went to the letter and came back to her face. I put my foot down like—like adamant. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m not at all sympathique. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike.
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