“How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. ‘If he needed sanctuary, it raises grave doubts about his activities. “The Annabel who lives here, who sings every night at the ‘Unusual’? They call her by your old name. He said that for him beauty justified life, that he could not imagine a good action that was not a beautiful one nor any beautiful thing that could be altogether bad. “NOW!” said Ann Veronica. The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears. “I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand.
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