Always. The danger or difficulty of an exploit never appalled him. I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. “They might do you good,” she remarked. Jove, he didn’t take to it kindly, I can tell you. But, when the sound of the carriage-wheels died away, and he felt that she was actually gone, his resolution failed him, and he rang the bell violently. The child was still safe. Or was that perhaps because his business in Piccadilly the other day had gone awry? Perhaps Brewis Charvill had not welcomed him with open arms. Ann Veronica was by this time quite shocked at her own thoughts, and yet they would go on with their freaks. Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him.
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