Perhaps if his father and mother came here.

.

.

but Michael's imagination quailed before such a supposition.
The third point, which gradually through these weeks began to haunt him more and more, was the personality of Sylvia.

He had never come across a girl who in the least resembled her, probably because he had not attempted even to find in a girl, or to display in himself, the signals, winked across from one to the other, of human companionship.