Ann Veronica snatched at the opportunity, and spent most of the intervening time in the Assyrian Court of the British Museum, reading and thinking over a little book upon the feminist movement the tired woman had made her buy. Her father’s peculiar stiffness of soul presented itself now as something altogether left out of the calculations upon which her plans were based, and, in particular, she had not anticipated the difficulty she would find in borrowing the forty pounds she needed for Ramage. Sulphurous poisons assaulted her nostrils as she threw the stone to one side of its resting place. There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. She had not thought anything could equal her despair at that moment. ‘Will you—what was it?—“blow off his head”?’ Melusine eyed her, a little uncertain.
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