He loved his banjo.

He demurred a little at accepting her assistance in the kitchen, but finally yielded, for she would not be refused.

She seemed to dread the thought of solitude.
When they went upstairs at length, she made a great effort to shake off her depression.

She even sang a little to one or two of Jerry's melodies, but her customary high spirits remained conspicuously absent, and after a while Jerry became impatient, and laid the instrument down.
"What's the matter ?" he asked bluntly.
Nan was sitting with her feet on the fender, her eyes upon the flames.
His question did not seem to surprise her.
"You wouldn't understand," she said, "if I were to tell you." "Well, you might as well give me the chance," he responded.

"My intelligence is up to the average, I dare say." She looked round at him with a faint smile.
"Oh, don't be huffy, dear boy! Why should you?
You want to know what is the matter?
Well, I'll tell you.