” “If you want to ask a favour,” he remarked smiling, “you have made it almost impossible for me to refuse you anything. He put it carefully aside, resolved to defer the attempt till night. She felt that she had passed a difficult corner, and that now she could go on talking with him again, just as she had been used to do before she understood what was the matter with her. She would marry him. I wonder, Ann Veronica, if, when our time comes, we shall be any wiser?” Ann Veronica watched a water-beetle fussing across the green depths. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. "These writer chaps are queer birds.
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