Her father was an astute businessman and a hard worker, but also handsome in the face which had aided partly his ascension to the Guild. “I think that I shall be the most unpopular man in London. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. A faint gleam of returning colour gave her at once a more natural appearance. The simile started a laugh in his throat.
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