“It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. ’ This was Leonardo’s philosophy. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. You can’t possibly understand!” He began a confused explanation, a perplexing contradictory apology for his urgency and wrath. ‘You are wise, Marthe. It is not a dissipated face. ’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. “You knew it,” he added, in her momentary silence.
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