“If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. ” “I still——” Anna stopped short. Living, he knew that he would never send that letter. You have a daughter, no? Madame Ibstock, I think. F. Sheppard. The decision had been sound. And as he walked by her side they began a wrangle that was none the less pleasant to Ann Veronica because it served to banish a disagreeable preoccupation. . ” When the next holidays came Ann Veronica’s mother was ill, and Gwen was in the sick-room when Ann Veronica returned home. It became suddenly glaringly apparent to her that it was impossible to return fifteen pounds or any sum less than twenty pounds to Ramage—absolutely impossible. . She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. This is a plot entirely abominable, and I scorn to be part of it.
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