"Besides," continued Anne meditatively, "is it so certain that Janet is stupid? She appears so because she is unformed, ignorant, and because she has never reflected, or been thrown with educated people. She has not come to herself. She will never learn anything by imagination or perception, for she seems quite devoid of them. But I think she might learn by trouble or happiness, or both. She can feel. Strong feeling would be the turning-point with her, if she has sufficient ability to take advantage of it. Perhaps she has not, and happiness or trouble may leave her as they found her. But she gives me the impression that she _might_ alter considerably if she were once thoroughly aroused." "I can't rouse her. I was not sent into the world to rouse pretty horse-breakers." If Anne was doubtful as to what Mrs Trefusis had been sent into this imperfect world for, she did not show it. "I don't want you to rouse her. All I want is that you should be kind to her." Anne took Mrs Trefusis' ringed, claw-like hand between both hers. "I do want that very much." "Well," said Mrs Trefusis, blinking her eyes, "I won't say I won't try. You can always get round me, Anne. Oh! my dear, dear child, if it might only have been you. But of course, just because I had set my heart upon it, I was not to have it. That has been my life from first to last. If I might only have had you. You think me a cross, bitter old woman, and so I am: God knows I have had enough to make me so. But I should not have been so to you." "You never are so to me. But you see my affections are--is not that the correct expression?--engaged." "But you are not." "No. I am as free as air. That is where the difficulty comes in." "Where is the creature now?" "In Paris. The _World_ chronicles his movements. That is why I take in the _World_. If he had been in London this week, I should not--be here at this moment." "I suppose he is enormously run after?" "Oh yes! By others as well as by me; by tons of others younger and better looking than I am." "Now, Anne, I am absolutely certain that you have never run a yard after him." "I have never appeared to do so," said Anne, with her faint, enigmatical smile. "The proprieties have been observed. At least by me they have. But I have covered a good deal of ground, nevertheless." "I don't know what he is made of." "Well, he is made of money for one thing, and I have not a shilling. He knows that." "He ought to be only too honoured by your being willing to think of him. In my young days a man of his class would not have had a chance." "Millionaires get their chance nowadays." "Then why doesn't he take it?" "Because," said Anne, her lip quivering, "he thinks I like him for his money. He has got that firmly screwed into his head." "As if a woman like you would do such a thing." "Women extremely like me are doing such things all the time. How is he to know I am different?" "He must be a fool." "He does not look like one."