"I know. She's mad with you. What can you expect, Anna II.?" he interrupted in a very matter-of-fact voice, leaning against a bookcase. Even a bookcase was better than nothing to lean against. "Christopher is being unreasonable," said Anna-Felicitas, her voice softer and gentler than he had yet heard it. Then she stopped, and considered him a moment with much of the look of one who on a rather cold day considers the sea before diving in--with, that is, a slight but temporary reluctance to proceed. "Won't you sit down?" said Mr. Twist. "Perhaps I'd better," she said, disposing herself in the big chair. "It's very strange, but my legs feel funny. You wouldn't think being in love would make one want to sit down." "I beg your pardon?" said Mr. Twist. "I have fallen in love," said Anna-Felicitas, looking up at him with a kind of pensive radiance. "I did it this morning." Mr. Twist stared at her. "I beg your--what did you say?" he asked. She said, still with that air as she regarded him of pensive radiance, of not seeing him but something beyond him that was very beautiful to her and satisfactory, "I've fallen in love, and I can't tell you how pleased I am because I've always been afraid I was going to find it a difficult thing to do. But it wasn't. Quite the contrary." Then, as he only staged at her, she said, "He's coming round this afternoon on the new footing, and I wanted to prepare your and Christopher's minds in good time so that you shouldn't be surprised." And having said this she lapsed into what was apparently, judging from her expression, a silent contemplation of her bliss. "But you're too young," burst out Mr. Twist. "Too young?" repeated Anna-Felicitas, coming out of her contemplation for a moment to smile at him. "We don't think so." Well. This beat everything. Mr. Twist could only stare down at her.