It had now become a second nature.

I suppose she was always like that; even in the very hour of elopement with Fyne.

That transaction when one remembered it in her presence acquired a quaintly marvellous aspect to one's imagination.
But somehow her self-possession matched very well little Fyne's invariable solemnity.
I was rather sorry for him.

Wasn't he worried! The agony of solemnity.
At the same time I was amused.

I didn't take a gloomy view of that "vanishing girl" trick.