She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from
his image and the idea of his presence in her life. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how
old I look? Fifteen. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?”
He seemed deaf to her interruption. ”
Suppose in some complex yet conceivable way women were endowed, were no
longer economically and socially dependent on men. The last time Pottiswick had
called out the militia on suspicion of intruders in Remenham House, a large
rodent had been all the spoil. So that the
thought of Ann Veronica up-stairs had been extremely painful for her through all
the silent dinner-time that night. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. Whence she came,—who she was,—and what she wanted,—were questions
which naturally suggested themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for
some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by a gesture of silence from
the lady.
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