“You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly. "She wouldn't let me go. . . ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. He had only to recall this fact (which he did in each crisis) to erect a barrier she could not go around or over. Well aware that the doors in this passage were much stronger than those in the entry he had just quitted he was neither surprised nor dismayed to find it fastened by a lock of unusual size. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. But on Sunday he had been obliged to attend to certain matters for the nuns. “She seems an unusually clever girl,” said Ramage.
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