I chose you for your strength, your cunning, your intelligence, your great beauty. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. He is big and powerful; one of those drinkers who show it but little outwardly. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe.
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