’ ‘Dear me. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. She then introduced them to Martin’s parents. “I suppose, Vee, you don’t see much of those Widgetts now?” “I go in and talk to Constance sometimes. I wonder,” he added, after a moment’s pause, “whether you ever realize how young you are. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. Section 2.
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