Can it ever be so good again?” Ann Veronica put out a firm hand and squeezed his arm. In the middle of the little town stood the shop of a Jew dealer in old clothes. Michelle smiled. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. Her eyebrows, pulled down by the stress of thought, now resumed their normal arches; and pleased with her discovery, she smiled.
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