“Don’t be an ass, Ferringhall,” he said tersely. He felt like a boy again, the taste for adventures was keen upon his palate, the whole undiscovered world of rhythmical things, of love and poetry and passion seemed again to him a real and actual place, and he himself an adventurer upon the threshold. He wasn't quite hard enough to win worldly success; that was his fault. She kept pausing in her work and regarding it, and when Capes came round to her, she first put her hand in her lap and then rather awkwardly in front of him. One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken.
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