.

.
They became a little more definite over lover-confessions.

Michael had, so to speak, nothing to confess: he had loved all along--he had wanted her all along; there never had been the least pretence or nonsense about it.

Her path was a little more difficult to trace, but once it had been traversed it was clear enough.

She had liked him always; she had felt sister-like from the moment when Hermann brought him to the house, and sister-like she had continued to feel, even when Michael had definitely declared there was "no thoroughfare" there.