“If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. Spurling was in a state of distraction and began to abuse Jonathan so violently that her future husband was obliged to lay forcible hands upon her and drag her away. Officers were these. He encouraged her to join him in his debauchery. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. She could not analyse what was stirring in her: the thought of losing the doll, the dog, and the cat. He had found her in a communicative mood, and he used the accumulated skill of years in turning that to account. ‘She is a maid only, and I do not believe she has married Emile. It came to her like a dear thing rediscovered, that she loved Capes. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton.
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