But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. “Well, hello there. . ” “It astonishes me that I don’t,” said Manning, in a tone of intense selfenjoyment. Jests are not for seasons like this. Your adoptive father understands mankind better. “No lecturing, Anna!” she exclaimed. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. This man was apparently not sure whether he was Meysey Hill or not.
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