The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. ‘Why not a French flag?’ ‘Because I don’t believe that fool Pottiswick could tell French from Arabic, even if he heard it as he says he did—which I take leave to doubt. She had not anticipated such a response from her classmates, but knew to be drawing them with her self-consciousness as if they were bees to pollen. Returning to the churchyard, he walked round it; and on the western side, near a small yew-tree discovered a new-made grave. Wood's displeasure; and he was the more readily induced to do this, as the conversation began to turn upon his own affairs.
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