One needs only imagination.

The things one dreams about are always more beautiful and perhaps more satisfying than the things one does." Again our eyes met, and I fancied that this time she was looking a little frightened.

At any rate she knew.

I was sure of that.
"What an ineffective sort of proceeding!" she murmured.
A creek separated us for a few minutes.

When we came together again I asked her a question.
"There is something, Lady Angela," I said, "which, if you would forgive the impertinence of it, I should very much like to ask you." She moved her head slowly, as though giving a tacit consent.