In her case the barrier was not selfishness but the perception that her interest would be misinterpreted, naturally. Oh God! pardon me. But—if you are a friend of Mr. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. "Never throw away a chance," thought Jonathan.
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