It was pathetic that she should cherish an affection so ingenuous for the Osborns, for one of them at least had no patience with her. To Captain Osborn her existence and presence in the near neighbourhood were offences. He told himself that she was of the particular type of woman he most disliked. She was a big, blundering fool, he said, and her size and very good nature itself got on his nerves and irritated him.
"She looks so deucedly prosperous with her first-rate clothes and her bouncing health," he said.
"The tread of her big feet makes me mad when I hear it."
Hester answered with a shrill little laugh.
"Her big feet are a better shape than mine," she said. "I ought to hate her, and I would if I could, but I can't."
"I can," muttered Osborn between his teeth as he turned to the mantel and scratched a match to light his pipe.
