He then spoke with a certain fatherly kindliness of the past. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. She thought study would be better. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. Sometimes we had the Illustrated London News and Tit-Bits. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. He had never wanted daughters. He kissed her once inside the car.
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