I am come to serve you. . ” Some one hidden from Ann Veronica appeared to be marshalling the assembly. Neither of these wards had beds, and the unfortunate inmates were obliged to take their rest on the oaken floor. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. After all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy, marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line, must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff. " CHAPTER V.
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