Elisabeth Sanxay Holding

“ Lionel was not able to be properly indignant.
“I’ll admit,” he said, still very red, “that she’s—too fond of me. Too much faith in me.... But, Horace, old man, you mustn’t misunderstand her. She’s the best little woman on earth. Absolutely. An angel. Never complains. Never finds fault. ”

“ His pity for Lionel increased every minute, and he felt for Minnie something as near hatred as his kindly nature allowed.
He said he was going to walk home, and Lionel offered to accompany him part of the way.
“What do you think of her now?” he asked, anxiously, as they came out into the dusky street.
“A very nice little woman,” Horace answered. He could not force himself to say more. Pain and disappointment seized him by the throat. Lionel in that dingy flat, with that sallow, complacent woman who talked about growing vegetables in the suburbs. The sort of woman inevitably to grow fat. ”

“ Minnie herself fancied that her domesticity, her womanliness were pleasing him, that he was reflecting upon the good Lionel would derive from this match. Whereas! He was, after all, the same Horace who had chosen for his wife a flamboyant and radiant beauty, the Horace who had for years been more than tolerant of his wastrel brother’s follies and caprices. He was a man with a fanatic love for charm and distinction and beauty, there could have been no one to whom Minnie’s sober dowdiness would have made less appeal. ”