Whence had she come: whither was she bound? A temporary congestion in the street held up the caravan for a spell; and Ah Cum looked backward to note if any of the party had become separated. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain. She was never violent when angry: she became as calm and baffling as the sea in doldrums. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. He was wearing a new silk hat, with a slightly more generous brim than its predecessor, and it suited his type of face, robbed his dark eyes a little of their aggressiveness and gave him a solid and dignified and benevolent air. Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. Of you—an angel with one wing.
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