Gwen—I saw Gwen the other day, and the paint’s thicker than ever. Though they do, in secret, I believe. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper. ” “It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of friendship between you and me. ” As the long, solitary days wore on, Ann Veronica found a number of definite attitudes and conclusions in her mind.
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