He perceived with joy that she was reasonable now, and the brother and sister sat down close together at the writing-table with the printed sheets between them.
"I will read aloud," said Mr.Gresley, "and you can follow me, and stop me if you think--er--the sense is not quite clear." "I see." The two long noses, the larger freckled one surmounted by a _pince-nez_, the other slightly pink, as if it had absorbed the tint of the blotting-paper over which it was so continually poised, both bent over the sheets.
Through the thin wall which separated the school-room from the study came the sound of Mary's scales.

Mary was by nature a child of wrath, as far as music was concerned, and Fraeulein--anxious, musical Fraeulein--was strenuously endeavoring to impart to her pupil the rudiments of what was her chief joy in life.
"'Modern Dissent,'" read aloud Mr.Gresley, "by Veritas." "_Veritas_!" repeated Hester.

Astonishment jerked the word out of her before she was aware.

She pulled herself hastily together.
"Certainly," said the author, looking at his sister through his glasses, which made the pupils of his eyes look as large as the striped marbles on which Mary and Regie spent their pennies.

"Veritas," he continued, "is a Latin word signifying Truth." "So I fancied.