He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as a chagrined lover. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. He looked at her guiltily. Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green object that clashed as it was put down.
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