Perhaps she had found this new thing in life, the thing wonderful. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. “If only Sir John were not Sir John I would ask you to come and have some supper. And, anyhow, it doesn’t matter to us. Any one less courageous than himself would have abandoned the attempt from a conviction of its utter hopelessness; but, though it might for a moment damp his ardour, it could not deter him. ‘You will take the place of André?’ ‘Exactly so. "Love me, love my dog! Because I've scolded him and told him a few truths, you are ice to me.
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