The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. It occurred to Ann Veronica once that she had known him when he was younger, but day had followed day, and each had largely obliterated the impression of its predecessor. Jonathan smiled contemptuously. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. But I expect him back every minute.
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