She was not naturally a patient woman-she was not introspective enough to be that and she held no brief for Maggie. Nevertheless for two whole years she held her hand... They were, all three, in that ugly house, figures moving in the dark.
The driver wore a white hat with pink rosette, and beside him, on the high seat, were a man and a woman-she with her arm round his waist. Montgomery had one glimpse of them as they flashed past; he with a furry cap drawn low over his brow, a great frieze coat and a pink comforter round his throat; she brazen, red-headed, bright-coloured, laughing excitedly.
Favoured by these circumstances, and the perception that Ventnor was an agreeable fellow, Bob Pillin yielded to his secret itch to get near the subject of his affections. "Do you happen," he said airily, "to know a Mrs. Larne relative of old Heythorp's rather a handsome woman-she writes stories." Mr. Ventnor shook his head.