“It was my sister Anna. “I’ve got bad faults. I presume that I may not kiss you in the street?” “Certainly not, sir,” she replied, laughing. But he had always felt (he had never allowed himself to think of it) that the promptitude of their family was a little indelicate of her, and in a sense an intrusion. “One moment, if you please!” She stopped short and looked round. You did not see me, I know. Men usually do. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea.
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