” “Any place would be beautiful,” said Ann Veronica, in a low voice. ’ ‘Yes, a pretty theory, Lucy,’ Gerald said evenly, ‘but for one thing. I couldn't accept anything from you. Baffled in their attempt, the mob uttered a roar, such as only a thousand angry voices can utter, and discharged a volley of missiles at the soldiery. The little room was fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences of well being. Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. ” “You weren’t rude,” she said. Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her.
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