For the present, he murmured his farewells, and turning, caught Hilary’s eye and walked away, crossing the ballroom to move into the less opulent, and less crowded, saloon next door where servants were dispensing refreshments. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. They had cried a little, both. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. “I suppose you could at least tune it for us if you know how to play. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. Tonight Lucy doled out outré physiological theories of boys and their overactive hormones. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. 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. ' Why," said Ruth, "you did not read that to us. That capitaine has arranged it all.
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