Ann Veronica had come down thinking of nothing in the world but her inflexible resolution to go to the dance in the teeth of all opposition. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. He embraced her small body in his arms, kissing her forehead over and over. He winced from the wasp-like sting. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. Outside the door he turned and stared at the panels.
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