I've only one idea and one subject of conversation.

Ask Edith.
She understands me." "Ah, Edith--" said Anne, as if Edith were a very different affair.
The intonation was hopeful, it suggested some slender and refined jealousy.

(If only he could make her jealous!) On the strength of it he advanced to the punctual daily offering of flowers, flowers for her drawing-room, flowers for her bedroom, flowers for her to wear.

After that he took to writing her letters from the office with increasing frequency and fervour.

Anne, too, was courteous and distant.