CHAPTER V.IN WHICH THE SHADES OF BROWNY AND MATEY ADVANCE AND RETIRE.
"Emile is as anglomane as ever, and not a bit less a Frenchman," Weyburn said, in a tone of one who muffles a shock at the heart.
"It would be the poorer compliment to us," she rejoined.
They looked at one another; she dropped her eyelids, he looked away.
She had the grand manner by nature.

She was the woman of the girl once known.
"A soldier, is he ?" "Emile's profession and mine are much alike, or will be." "A secretary ?" Her deadness of accent was not designed to carry her opinion of the post of secretary.
It brought the reply: "We hope to be schoolmasters." She drew in a breath; there was a thin short voice, hardly voice, as when one of the unschooled minor feelings has been bruised.

After a while she said-- "Does he think it a career ?" "Not brilliant." "He was formed for a soldier." "He had to go as the road led." "A young man renouncing ambition!" "Considering what we can do best." "It signifies the taste for what he does." "Certainly that." Weyburn had senses to read the word "schoolmaster" in repetition behind her shut mouth.

He was sharply sensible of a fall.
The task with his papers occupied him.

If he had a wish, it was to sink so low in her esteem as to be spurned.