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He sat down beside her and stroked her hair. He kept his keen eyes steadily fixed on Thames, as if awaiting to be addressed. "Let me see the earth thrown over her," implored Jack; "and take me where you please. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. Give us that—” Ann Veronica came in with a certain disregard of Miss Miniver. The calvacade was now put slowly in motion. Capes was inclined to support Miss Klegg until Miss Garvice cornered him by quoting him against himself, and citing a recent paper in the Nineteenth Century, in which, following Atkinson, he had made a vigorous and damaging attack on Lester Ward’s case for the primitive matriarchate and the predominant importance of the female throughout the animal kingdom. What she admired in her man was his resolute defense of his opinions. The Wastrel did not relish this. Until that was done a certain experience of life assured him that a girl is a locked coldness against a man’s approach.
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