“I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years. By-the-bye, do you want any money? Sir John’s ideas of pin money are not exactly princely, but I can manage what you want, I dare say. She ignored his question. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. He was a tall man and fair, with bluish eyes that were rather protuberant, and long white hands of which he made a display.
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