She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. It shall be done as you direct. The agony on the sands now ceased to puzzle her. I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. Occasionally he would lean back and stare at the window which gave upon the sea.
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