He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women. She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. She reminded him of his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. The fire still burned brightly. " "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me.
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