Loneliness. What with these converging roofs that shut out all but a hand's breadth of the sky, sunshine was rare at this point. After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. She thought her niece very hard and very self-possessed and self-confident. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. Even as she watched, the sweat of weakness began to form on his forehead and under the nether lip. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind.
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