You can’t possibly understand!” He began a confused explanation, a perplexing contradictory apology for his urgency and wrath. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. It hardly served his interests. She hoped fervently that Martin had not divulged his crush to Brown. She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. Ennison too, always handsome and debonnair, seemed transported out of his calm self. It presented itself in the likeness of a great, gray, dull world—a brutal, superstitious, confused, and wrong-headed world, that hurt people and limited people unaccountably. They had turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats where Anna lived. "You heard me say it! It was inevitable. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. A child—as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you have done; I don't care. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter.
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