"Comfort yourself, my charmer," said Mr. “I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. Lucy cried out, “There is a baby in the crypt! She has taken an infant!” Sebastian struck her across the jaw, sending her flying backwards. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. It was below consciousness, elusive; so he sent out a call to his friend, defensively. The Widgett mental furniture was perhaps worn and shabby, but there it was before you, undisguised, fading visibly in an almost pitiless sunlight.
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