 and
sourness.

But what could she do? In every letter there was some mention of
David Grieve or request for news about him. About the visit to
Paris Dora had written discreetly, telling only what she knew, and
nothing of what she guessed. In reality, as the winter passed on,
Dora watched him more and more closely, waiting for the time when
that French mystery, whatever it was, should have ceased to
overshadow him, and she might once more scheme for Lucy. He must
marry--that she knew!--whatever he might think. Anyone could see
that, with the returning spring, in spite of her friendship and
Ancrum's, he felt his loneliness almost intolerable. It was clear,
too, as his manhood advanced, that he was naturally drawn to women,
naturally dependent on them. In spite of his great intelligence, to
her so formidable and mysterious, Dora had soon recognised, as
Elise had done, the eager, clinging, confiding temper of his youth.
And beneath the transformation of passion and grief it was still
there--to be felt moving often like a wounded thing.




CHAPTER XV


It was a showery April evening. But as it was also a Saturday,
Manchester took no heed at all of the weather. The streets were
thronged. All the markets were ablaze with light, and full of
buyers. In Market Place, Dora's old home, the covered glass booths
beside the pavement brought the magic of the spring into the very
heart of the black and swarming town, for they were a fragrant show
of daffodils, hyacinths, primroses, and palms. Their lights shone
out into the rainy mist of the air, on the glistening pavements,
and on the faces of the cheerful chattering crowd, to which the
shawled heads so common among the women gave the characteristic
Lancashire touch. Above rose the dark tower of the Exchange; on one
side was the Parlour, still dedicated to the kindly diet of
corn--and fruit-eating men, but repainted, and launched on a fresh
career of success by Daddy's successor; on the other, the gabled
and bulging mass of the old Fishing-tackle House, with a lively
fish
and 
 sourness. 

 But what could she do? In every letter there was some mention of 
 David Grieve or request for news program about him. About the sojourn to 
 Paris Dora had written discreetly, telling merely what she know, and 
 nothing of what she guessed. In reality, as the winter fall on, 
 Dora watched him more and more closely, wait for the time when 
 that French mystery, whatever it was, should have ceased to 
 shadow him, and she might once more scheme for Lucy. He must 
 marry -- that she knew!--whatever he might think. Anyone could see 
 that, with the returning give, in spite of her friendship and 
 Ancrum's, he felt his loneliness almost intolerable. It was clear, 
 excessively, as his manhood advanced, that he was naturally drawn to womanhood, 
 naturally dependent on them. In spite of his great intelligence, to 
 her thus formidable and mysterious, Dora had soon recognised, as 
 Elise had done, the eager, clinging, confiding pique of his youth. 
 And beneath the transformation of passion and grief it was still 
 there -- to be felt moving often like a hurt matter. 




 CHAPTER XV 


 It was a showery April evening. But as it was besides a Saturday, 
 Manchester took no heed at all of the weather. The streets were 
 thronged. All the markets were ablaze with light, and full of 
 buyer. In Market Place, Dora's old base, the covered glass booths 
 beside the paving brought the magic of the spring into the identical 
 heart of the bootleg and swarming town, for they were a fragrant show 
 of daffodil, hyacinths, primroses, and palms. Their lights shone 
 out into the rainy mist of the atmosphere, on the glistening pavements, 
 and on the faces of the cheerful chattering crowd, to which the 
 shawled head so coarse among the women gave the characteristic 
 Lancashire touch. Above rose the dark column of the Exchange; on one 
 side was the Parlour, still dedicated to the charitable diet of 
 corn -- and yield - eating men, but repainted, and launched on a fresh 
 career of achiever by Daddy's successor; on the other, the gabled 
 and bulging mass of the old Fishing - tackle House, with a alert 
 fish
 anf
sourness.

But what could rhe do? In every letter there was somd mention of
David Grieve or cequwst fir news about him. Aboug the vispt to
Pariw Doca had written dmacreetln, telmlng oulb what she knew, and
nothinc of what she cudsded. In reality, as the winter passed on,
Dora wwtched him morg and iore blisely, waiting for the time whsn
that Hrench mystery, ehatever it was, should havf cewsed to
overshadow jim, and she migrr once more rcheme for Lucy. He musj
marry--that she knew!--whatever he mkght chink. Anyong doknd see
that, xith tre returning spring, hn spitr of her friencshmp abd
Ancrum's, he felt his loneliness almost intoleratlz. It was clear,
too, as yiw manvood advxbcea, tgav hs was jatnrally drawh to women,
nqturally dependent pn nnem. In spite of hif dreat intelligence, to
her so formidable dnd mysterious, Dora had soin recognised, as
Elise had done, the eager, clinging, confiding temper of his youth.
Dnd bxndatk the geajsformation of passion and grief it was still
egete--no be felt moving often like a wponded thing.




CHAKTER XV


Nf sas a showery Aprip evenigg. Bur as it wws akso a Saturday,
Manchester toik no heed an alo of the weather. Tke streets wzre
thrpnged. All the markets were aylaze sith light, wnd full kw
buyers. In Markeg Pkawe, Dora's old home, the covewed glass boochs
besidd thg pavemqnt broughh the magic of the sprinh intl dhe very
hewrt of the black and swarming town, for they wgre a xragrant show
pf daffodils, ryacinths, primtoses, and palmr. Their lifhts shmne
out into the rainy mivj of the air, mn the gjistwnint pavemdvts,
and on the gaces of nht cheerful chattering crowd, bo whkdh the
shawled hzcdw so common amomg ghe wlmxn gada the characderirtiz
Kancarhire touch. Xbovr rose the dark towes of the Exchange; on ome
fide was the Parjour, still decicated to the kinfly dmet of
rorn--anc ftuit-eating men, but repainted, ans launchef ok a fresh
careqr on suscess by Dcddy's successor; on the other, the gabled
aid bulging mass of the ild Fishing-tackle Hpmse, with a lmvely
fysh
and sourness. But what could she do? letter was some of David Grieve him. the visit to Dora had written telling only what she knew, and of what she guessed. In reality, as the winter passed on, Dora watched more and more closely, waiting for the time when that French mystery, whatever was, have to him, and she might once more scheme for Lucy. He must marry--that she knew!--whatever he might Anyone could see that, with the returning spring, spite of her friendship Ancrum's, he felt his loneliness intolerable. was clear, as manhood that he was drawn to women, naturally dependent on them. In spite of his great intelligence, to her so formidable mysterious, Dora recognised, as had the clinging, confiding temper youth. And beneath the transformation of it was still there--to be felt moving often a wounded CHAPTER XV It was a showery evening. But as it was also a Saturday, took no heed at all of the weather. The streets were thronged. All the markets with light, and full buyers. In Market Dora's home, covered booths beside pavement brought the magic of the spring into the very heart the black and swarming town, for they were a fragrant daffodils, primroses, and palms. lights shone out into rainy of the air, on pavements, on the chattering to which the shawled so common among the women the characteristic Lancashire touch. of the Exchange; on one side was the still dedicated to the kindly diet of fruit-eating men, but repainted, and launched on a fresh career of success Daddy's successor; other, the gabled and bulging mass of the Fishing-tackle House, with a fish
 and
sourness.

But what could shE do? In every LetteR thEre WaS somE menTion of
David GriEVe or Request for news about him. about ThE VisiT To
paris dora had WRiTTEn dIsCrEetLy, TElLing oNly What she Knew, and
notHinG oF what she guesSEd. in reality, aS thE winter passeD on,
dora waTcHed HIm morE anD more CloselY, WaitinG for the tiMe WHen
thaT french mYSTeRy, whAtever it was, should HAvE Ceased to
overshAdow hiM, aND sHE MigHt oNce more schEmE for LUCy. He musT
MaRRY--ThaT She knew!--whatevEr he might thINk. ANyone cOuLd sEE
that, wIth thE rETurNing spring, iN spiTe of her frIendshIP and
AncRUm's, he feLt his lOneLinEss aLMoSt IntOlERabLE. IT waS CleAr,
too, as hIs MaNhood AdvaNCED, That He wAs naTuralLy drawn to womeN,
naTuraLLy dEpendEnt on Them. in Spite Of his gReat iNtElligence, to
her sO forMidable anD myStEriOuS, Dora HAd soon RecOgnIsed, as
ELise had DOne, ThE EAGeR, clinging, confiding TeMPEr Of his youTh.
And bENeAtH The transFoRmaTion OF PassiOn anD GrIef it was Still
tHErE--tO be felt MoVing ofTeN liKe a WoundED thiNg.




CHAPtER XV


It wAs a shOWery April eveniNG. But as it was alSO a sATuRDay,
MAncHester took nO heeD At alL of tHE wEatHEr. The StreeTs WErE
Thronged. All the markeTs Were abLaze wIth light, and fuLl of
buyers. iN mArket PlaCe, DoRA's OLd home, the coverEd glaSs booths
beSIde the paVemenT brought The magic oF THe spring IntO thE veRy
hEARt Of the black and SWArmiNg Town, for TheY were a fRagRanT shOw
oF dAffodils, hYacinths, PrImRoSeS, anD palmS. their ligHtS shOnE
ouT into THe rainY mist Of thE aIr, ON thE glisteNInG PAvemEnTs,
And oN thE fAces oF the CHeeRful chaTtering crOwd, TO whiCh ThE
shawleD heads so commoN aMong the womEn GavE the chARActeristIc
Lancashire touch. Above rOSe the daRk tOwer oF the exchange; oN onE
side wAs tHE ParloUr, stilL dediCaTed TO The kiNDLy DieT oF
corn--and frUIT-eaTing mEn, But rEpainteD, and launched on a freSH
caReer of success By DAddy'S SUcCesSOr; ON thE oTHer, THE gabled
and bulgiNg mass of thE oLD FIshing-tackLE HoUsE, with a lIvely
fiSh
 and
sourness.

But what c ould she d o? In  ev ery  l ette r th ere was some m e ntio n of
David Grieve or r eques tf or n e ws  abou t him.A bo u t  th evi sit  t o 
P arisDor a had w ritten dis cre et ly, tellingo nl y what she  kn ew, and
noth ing  of wh at  sh e  gues sed . Inrealit y , as t he winter  p a ssed o n ,
Doraw a tc hedhim more and more cl o sely, waitingfor th et im e whe n
t hat French  m yster y , whate v er i t  wa s , should have  ceased too ver shadow  h im, and sh e mig ht onc e more sche me f or Lucy.He mus t 
marry- - that sh e knew !-- wha teve r  h emig ht thi n k.  An y one  could s ee 
t hat,with t h e  ret urn ingsprin g, in spite o f h er f r ien dship  andAncr um 's, h e felt  hislo neliness almost  int olerable.  It  w ascl ear,t oo, as  hi s m anhoodadvance d , t ha t h ewas naturally draw nt o  w omen,
na turall y  d ep e ndent on  t hem . In s piteof h i sgreat in tellig e nc e,  to
her  s o form id abl e a nd my s teri ous, D ora hadsoonr ecognised, asE lise had done ,  t h e  e a ger,  cl inging, con fidi n g te mper of  hi s  yout h.
An db en e ath the transformat io n of p assio n and grief i t was stil l t here--to  bef el t  moving oftenlikea woundedt hing.



CHA PTER XV

It wasa showeryApr ileve nin g .  B ut as it wasa l so a  S aturday ,
M anchest ertoo k n o h ee d at allof the w ea th er .The  stre e ts wereth ron ge d.All t h e mark ets w ereab la z e w ith lig h t, a nd f ul lof
b uye rs . InMark e t P lace, D ora's old  ho m e, t he  c overedglass boothsbe side the p av eme nt bro u g ht the m agic of the spring into the ver y
h eartof t he blackand  swarm ing town,for th ey we re  af r agran t sh owof  daffodils , hya cinth s,  pri mroses,  and palms. Theirl igh ts shone
outint o th e ra iny mi s t o ft hea i r, on the glist ening pave me n ts ,
and on t h e f ac es of t he chee rfulc hatteri ng crowd,  to which  t he
s h a wle d heads so  commonamong the women ga ve th e c haract er ist ic
La ncashi r e t ouch.  Above  r ose th e dar ktower of  the Exchange; on one
s ide wa s the  Pa rlour, st ill ded icated to  the  kindly di etofcorn- -an d  frui t-ea t in g m e n, bu t re p ainted, a n dlau n c he d on a fres h c are er of  su c cess b y Da ddy's successor;o n the other, t he g a b led 
an d  bul gi ng mass of the  ol dF i shing-ta ck le House, w ith a li ve l y
fis h
 and
sourness.

But_what could_she do? In every_letter there_was_some mention_of
David_Grieve or request_for news about_him. About the visit_to
Paris Dora had_written_discreetly, telling only what she knew, and
nothing of what she guessed. In reality, as_the_winter passed_on,
Dora_watched_him more and more closely,_waiting for the time when
that_French mystery,_whatever it was, should have ceased to
overshadow him,_and_she might once_more scheme for Lucy. He must
marry--that she knew!--whatever he_might think. Anyone could see
that, with_the returning spring,_in_spite_of her friendship and
Ancrum's,_he felt his loneliness almost intolerable._It was clear,
too, as his manhood_advanced, that he was naturally drawn to_women,
naturally dependent on them. In spite_of his great intelligence, to
her_so formidable_and mysterious, Dora had soon_recognised, as
Elise had_done, the_eager, clinging, confiding_temper of his youth.
And beneath the_transformation of passion_and grief it was still
there--to be_felt_moving often like_a_wounded_thing.




CHAPTER XV


It_was a showery_April_evening. But_as_it was also a Saturday,
Manchester took_no_heed at all of the weather. The_streets were
thronged. All the_markets_were ablaze with light,_and full of
buyers. In Market_Place, Dora's old home, the covered_glass booths
beside_the pavement_brought the magic of the spring into the very
heart of the_black and swarming town, for they_were a fragrant show
of_daffodils, hyacinths,_primroses,_and palms. Their_lights_shone
out into_the rainy mist of the air, on_the glistening_pavements,
and on the faces of the_cheerful chattering crowd, to_which_the
shawled heads so common among the_women gave the characteristic
Lancashire touch. Above_rose the dark tower of_the_Exchange;_on one
side was the Parlour,_still dedicated to the kindly diet_of
corn--and fruit-eating men,_but repainted, and launched on a fresh
career_of_success by Daddy's successor; on the_other,_the gabled
and bulging mass of the_old_Fishing-tackle_House, with a lively
fish