"I suppose it would be madness on my part to speak to her?" he pursued.
"That would depend a good deal, I should think, on the nature of what you said," his counsellor suggested, smiling.
"If I said point-blank I loved her—?"
Miss Sandus looked hard at the fire, her brows drawn together, pondering. Her brows were drawn together, but the vis comica played about her lips.
"I think, if I were in your place, I should try it," she decided at last.
"Would you?" said Anthony, surprised, encouraged. But, in a second, despondency had closed round him again. "You see," he signified, "the situation is uncommonly delicate—one 's at a double and twisted disadvantage."
"How so?" Miss Sandus asked, looking up.
"She's established here for the summer. I, of all men, must n't be the one to make Craford impossible for her."
"I see," said Miss Sandus. "Yes, there's that to be thought of."
"There 's such a deuced lot of things to be thought of," said he, despairingly.