The spring can't be opened on this side. But once he had steered the lady down the hall and along a passage to a window seat at the end, he abandoned the subject of society. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. (What was the name he had given her that day?) He was walking beside the chair upon which appeared to be a bundle of colours.
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