There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. Daily contact with actual human beings all the more inclined her toward the imaginative. Ann Veronica wondered what her father would do if she were to tell him the full story of her relations with Ramage. To an unthinking mind the episode would be ordinary, trivial; but to the doctor, who had had plenty of time to think during his sojourn in China, it was basic of the child's unhappiness. "Why, what the devil would you have had me do!—make myself scarce, eh? You should have tipped me the wink. "My mother is avenged. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. “Look here, daddy,” she said, in a tone of great reasonableness, “I MUST go to that dance, you know. Although she had refused to answer his impertinent questions. A fine doctor from the Arte de Medici e Speziali was commissioned directly from Rome to oversee her care.
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