And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. The new and the old cancelled out; his daughters became quasi-independent dependents—which is absurd. His grief was so audible, that it attracted the notice of some of the bystanders, and Thames was obliged to beg him to control it. ‘Go then. Anna failed in her painting, our money was gone, and she was forced to earn her own living. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers.
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