There was nothing in the look over-personal.

She accepted it with gratitude.
"You are always kind," she murmured.
"This reminds me of some of our evenings in London," he went on, "when we used to talk music before we went to the Opera.

I always found those evenings so restful and pleasant.

Won't you try and forget that you have lost a few pennies; forget, also, your other worries, whatever they may be?
I have had a letter to-day from the one great writer whom we both admire.

I shall read it to you.