"We're quite new people, while the Perigals are a county family. But, somehow, I don't think he'll make Vic happy."
"What makes you say that?"
"He's not happy himself. Everything he takes up he wearies of; he gets pleasure out of nothing. And the pity of it is, he's no fool; if anything, he's too many brains."
"How can anyone have too many?"
"Take Perigal's case. He's too analytical; he sees too clearly into things. It's a sort of Rontgen ray intelligence, which I wouldn't have for worlds. Isn't it old Solomon who says, 'In much wisdom there is much sorrow'?"
"Solomon says a good many things," said Mavis gravely, as she remembered how the recollection of certain passion-charged verses from the "Song" had caused her to linger by the canal at Melkbridge on a certain memorable evening of her life, with, as it proved, disastrous consequences to herself.
"Have you ever read the 'Song'?" asked Harold.
"Yes."
"I love it, but I daren't read it now."
"Why?"