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“He fell over at my feet,” she continued. Hill closed his eyes. Even so much allusion as this to that family shadow, she felt, was an immense recognition of her ripening years. There was still in his heart that fierce anger which demands physical expression; but he had to consider Ruth in all phases. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering.
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