Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. Come, come, be reasonable, and listen to me. You’ve got me. “Perhaps you will help me shuffle?” Ann Veronica did, and also assisted nimbly with the arrangements of the rows of eight with which the struggle began. The Scotchman informed Ann Veronica that your view of beauty necessarily depended on your metaphysical premises, and the young man with the Russell-like hair became anxious to distinguish himself by telling the Japanese student that Western art was symmetrical and Eastern art asymmetrical, and that among the higher organisms the tendency was toward an external symmetry veiling an internal want of balance. Never mind. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. In any case, there was no doing anything on a Sunday and Brewis Charvill, his main quarry, had gone out of town unexpectedly. ” “You’ll get them,” he said. "The devil you have!" thundered a voice from behind, that filled the apprentice with dismay.
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