” The topic of his invalid wife bored him, and he turned at once to Ann Veronica. She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. Then he sensed the trap. The wall of the sky, the wall of the horizon, the wall behind which each human being hid—the wall behind which she herself was hiding! If only her mother had lived, her darling mother! Presently the unhappy puzzlement left her face; and an inward glow began to lighten it. That poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how. “It was unpleasant while it lasted, but it is over —and my toasted scones are delicious.
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