She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there. ” He asked questions and listened to her views for a time. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. A vast indifference settled down upon him. “Let me see,” he said. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly.
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