Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust. I don’t know if I express myself clearly. You shall behold him. "Ever play one of these machines?" "Yes. You are greatly altered. Paul's are his work. Her eyes fell, and then sought his again with timid interest. He was accustomed to such surprises, and enjoyed them. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. Her father held some printed document in his hand, and appeared not to observe her entry.
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