"What makes you think so ?" "Look at her mouth--made for passion--and the very setback of her throat--" He threw his head back in Clara's defiant manner.
Miriam bowed a little lower.
"Yes," she said.
There was a silence for some moments, while he thought of Clara.
"And what were the things you liked about her ?" she asked.
"I don't know--her skin and the texture of her--and her--I don't know--there's a sort of fierceness somewhere in her.

I appreciate her as an artist, that's all." "Yes." He wondered why Miriam crouched there brooding in that strange way.

It irritated him.
"You don't really like her, do you ?" he asked the girl.
She looked at him with her great, dazzled dark eyes.
"I do," she said.
"You don't--you can't--not really." "Then what ?" she asked slowly.
"Eh, I don't know--perhaps you like her because she's got a grudge against men." That was more probably one of his own reasons for liking Mrs.Dawes, but this did not occur to him.

They were silent.

There had come into his forehead a knitting of the brows which was becoming habitual with him, particularly when he was with Miriam.