" Mrs. Aunt and niece regarded each other silently. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. “Let me get you some water, Annabel. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. She knew the truth of it all right. His eyes were set too close together. " "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too.
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