The lady sipped her tea and looked at him quietly, perhaps affectionately, but he did not see her.
'You think I'm rather silly sometimes, don't you ?' he asked, still gazing at the fire.
'No,' she answered at once.

'It's never silly to be kind, even to weevils.' 'Thank you for thinking so,' said Mr.Van Torp, in an oddly humble tone, and he began to drink his own tea.
If Margaret Donne could have suddenly found herself perched among the chimney-pots on the opposite roof, and if she had then looked at his face through the window, she would have wondered why she had ever felt a perfectly irrational terror of him.

It was quite plain that the lady in black velvet had no such impression.
'You need not be so meek,' she said, smiling.
She did not laugh often, but sometimes there was a ripple in her fresh voice that would turn a man's head.

Mr.Van Torp looked at her in a rather dull way.
'I believe I feel meek when I'm with you.

Especially just now.' He swallowed the rest of his tea at a gulp, set the cup on the table, and folded his hands loosely together, his elbows resting on his knees; in this attitude he leaned forward and looked at the burning coals.