Don't you think it was rather natural, though ?" "For him, very likely.

But I think you would call it sinuous in some one you hadn't taken a fancy to." "No, no.

I wish to be just.

I don't see how he could have come straight at it.

And he did own up at last." She asked him what Burnamy had done for the magazine, and he could remember nothing but that one small poem, yet unprinted; he was rather vague about its value, but said it had temperament.
"He has temperament, too," she commented, and she had made him tell her everything he knew, or could be forced to imagine about Burnamy, before she let the talk turn to other things.
The life of the promenade had already settled into seafaring form; the steamer chairs were full, and people were reading or dozing in them with an effect of long habit.