Anna sighed as she reflected that her sister had simply revelled in her indiscretions. She was a woman now to the tips of her fingers; she had said good-bye to her girlhood in the old garden four years and a quarter ago. . A good deal of the food will be in tins. There was something about their greeting and the tone of Annabel’s exclamation which puzzled her. (What was the name he had given her that day?) He was walking beside the chair upon which appeared to be a bundle of colours. There were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that deportment and breeding are after all things apart. “Why, it’s David!” he exclaimed. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. But the objects in his range of vision remained unchanged.
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