With rage Barbara saw the interdiction of hopes which were just becoming serious.

Another month of those after-dinner colloquies in the drawing-room, and who could say what point of intimacy Mr.Musselwhite might have reached.

He was growing noticeably more articulate; he was less absentminded.

Oh, for a month more! This evening she took her usual place, and at length had the tormenting gratification of seeing Mr.Musselwhite approach in the usual way.
Though sitting next to him at dinner, she had said nothing of what would happen on the morrow; the present was a better opportunity.
"You have no book this evening, Miss Denyer!" "No." "No headache, I hope ?" "Yes, I have a little headache." He looked at her with gentlemanly sympathy.
"I have had to see to a lot of things in a hurry.

Unexpectedly, we have to leave Naples to-morrow; we are going to England." "Indeed?
You don't say so! Really, I'm very sorry to hear that, Miss Denyer." "I am sorry too--to have to leave Italy for such a climate at this time of the year." She shuddered.