There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. The aunt laughed. “It is possible, mademoiselle,” he said, “that this affair is not yet ended. So far as I am concerned, I am just now a hopeless nonentity. “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. "Heaven be praised, I am not the son of a nobleman. “Yes, I believe he is. “You know—,” said Mr. Denis, did you say? I hope that no one of our friends has met with an accident. Wait a second. He's had a hard knock somewhere; and until he is strong enough to walk, we must keep his interest away from that thought.
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