We men are like children. ” Michelle’s voice lowered to a whisper. Fortescue had not much ability to keep her sister, and a little while after her mother’s death Ann Veronica met Gwen suddenly on the staircase coming from her father’s study, shockingly dingy in dusty mourning and tearful and resentful, and after that Gwen receded from the Morningside Park world, and not even the begging letters and distressful communications that her father and aunt received, but only a vague intimation of dreadfulness, a leakage of incidental comment, flashes of paternal anger at “that blackguard,” came to Ann Veronica’s ears. I too can see it. “Please make yourselves comfortable while I see to the coffee. . Youth finds it pleasant sometimes to be melancholy. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. “But I wanted to see you.
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