The elastic spirits of youth resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped, his tears had ceased to flow. There were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that deportment and breeding are after all things apart. I had to go at a moment’s notice. Martin’s parents looked at each other in embarrassed, silent communication. “One doesn’t wait,” said Ann Veronica. Go to it. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment.
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