" "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. He had had five children at irregular intervals, of whom Ann Veronica was the youngest, so that as a parent he came to her perhaps a little practised and jaded and inattentive; and he called her his “little Vee,” and patted her unexpectedly and disconcertingly, and treated her promiscuously as of any age between eleven and eight-and-twenty. She was watching him intently. All this Woman-who-Diddery —no damn good. So he liked to go by a different train. Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. “In any case, there is probably some mistake. CHAPTER XV. In fact, it would not surprise me to discover that they were both Leonardo’s. “It is unimportant,” she said. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. My only love is for my poor lost son. Out of all this we have struck a sort of harmony.
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