“I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. “This is MY thing,” said Ann Veronica, softly, with thoughtful eyes upon him. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books. You have betrayed me. And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging. Just let him down easy, Lucy. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton.
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