“Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. Ann Veronica decided she would have to go on with Capes another day, and, looking up, discovered him sitting on a stool with his hands in his pockets and his head a little on one side, regarding her with a thoughtful expression. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. ’ ‘Very good, ma’am. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. And when, at length, it was struck, he wanted energy to pursue his advantages.
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