His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. Capes was irritatingly judicial in the matter, neither absurdly against, in which case one might have smashed him, or hopelessly undecided, but tepidly sceptical. For a second time Ann Veronica wanted to swear at the universe. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. If he stayed in the basement apartment as was his usual habit, she would have no problem. Life is two things, that’s how I see it; two things mixed and muddled up together. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck.
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