No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. God, Lucy, that’s the stuff people wear to Phys. "You've ruined my hopes. ’ ‘I don’t know,’ confessed Gerald. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. But was that enough? Dim, formless suspicions of something more vital wandered about his mind.
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