It did seem in so many ways exactly what Ramage said it was—the sensible thing to do. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. A hansom stopped a little way off. ‘Who has begun this but you?’ Gerald barely heard her. ’ She thrust him out of the room and made for the stairs. When he was up and about, the idea of flight would return. ” “You are sure that he asked for me—not for Annabel?” “Certain,” Courtlaw answered. His idea was to get behind this sustained listlessness.
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