“And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. She broke a cobblestone over his head and he was out. Were it not for your voice, I don't think I should know you. Gladstone would have to a carelessly displayed interior on a dissecting-room table. ” “You came—here!” he repeated, vaguely. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. She went to her own table and sat down. "Coward!" cried Kneebone. She wasn’t sure of herself when she said it. Suffer me to precede you.
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