"Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. Ann Veronica said nothing. It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt. “Monsieur would dine! It was very good! And Madame, of course?” with a low bow. “I’ve been thinking—all the afternoon. She regarded the young man coldly. She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account. I don’t know anyone. She pulled her chair with a mild creak and marched towards the stair. ‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it.
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