"Yes, but in my case," he answered, "the best part of my life is
passed in dreamland."
"And when you are not in dreamland?" she demanded. "When you're
just irritable, short-tempered, cranky Matthew Pole. What's she
going to do about you then?"
"She'll put up with me," said Matthew.
"No she won't," said Ann. "She'll snap your head off. Most of the
'putting up with' you'll have to do."
He tried to get between her and the window, but she kept her face
close to the pane.
"You make me tired with Sylvia," she said. "It's about time you did
know what she's like. She's just the commonplace, short-tempered,
disagreeable-if-she-doesn't-get-her-own-way, unreasonable woman.
Only more so."
He drew her away from the window by brute force.
"So you're Sylvia," he said.
"I thought that would get it into your head," said Ann.
It was not at all the way she had meant to break it to him. She had
meant the conversation to be chiefly about Sylvia. She had a high
opinion of Sylvia, a much higher opinion than she had of Ann
Kavanagh. If he proved to be worthy of her--of Sylvia, that is,
then, with the whimsical smile that she felt belonged to Sylvia, she
would remark quite simply, "Well, what have you got to say to her?"
What had happened to interfere with the programme was Ann Kavanagh.
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