‘Pray you, do me this one little service, and do not ask me why. ” Ennison shrugged his shoulders. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. Had he but known it, his outburst had done him no harm in the major’s eyes. ‘Is that why you allowed me in, ma’am?’ A dimple appeared in the faded cheek. “The fact is—I don’t know why—this takes me by surprise. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against. But I don't understand her; she's over my head.
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