She took it for granted Ann Veronica wore stays—mild stays, perhaps, but stays, and thought no more of the matter. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. She felt like a dried-up old woman. I had left Paris. She tried to be casual. “I wonder which of us enjoys that most,” said Capes—“does he, or do we?” “He seems to get a zest—” “He does it and forgets it. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted. ‘Eh bien, Eugénie. Wood rest till he brought the villains to justice. This last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this.
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