Occasionally he relit his pipe. What a pig she was. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. “Manning,” she said, and contemplated a figure of inaggressive persistence. “I ought to look up Gwen,” she said. He never asked questions; he never addressed his companions; and frequently he took off his cap and wiped his forehead. Set yourself to find it out, if you will—but if you do, never dare to call yourself my friend again. After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography.
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