5. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. “I know nothing whatever of his friends or his home. When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to lean against the window-jamb for support. Your boyfriend. I’ve loved her for two years, I love her now. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. I'd have got something nice. You are restless, aggressive, critical with all the crude unthinking criticism of youth. It was obvious that he had waited for her. ” Courtlaw’s walking stick, which he had been handling, fell with a crash to the ground. The first set of occupations seemed to her to be altogether too domestic and restricted; for the latter she was dreadfully handicapped by her want of experience.
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