Amid the black that fell about her slim tallness, she was more fragile, more pale than ever; and it seemed to Lucy that her eyes were dark with a fatigue that had not much to do with St.Peter's.

Suddenly indeed, she bent forward and said in a lowered voice to Mr.Neal-- 'You have read it ?' He too bent forward, with a smile not quite free from embarrassment-- 'Yes, I have read it--I shall have some criticisms to make .-- You won't mind ?' She threw up her hands-- 'Must you ?' 'I think I must--for the good of the book,'-- he said reluctantly.

'Very likely I'm all wrong.

I can only look at it as one of the public.

But that's what he wants,'-- what you both want--isn't it ?' She assented.