‘I fear you mistake, Emile. Wood hadn't struck me. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. She felt that Ann Veronica had duped her in that dream, and now that she had come up to London she might as well speak her mind. Then the long lashes sank demurely over them.
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