Gashes on his arms were already beginning to heal and disappear. A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. There stepped forth a tall brown man. “At the Tredgold Women’s College,” said Ann Veronica. “Women should understand men’s affairs, perhaps,” said Miss Garvice, “but to mingle in them is just to sacrifice that power of influencing they can exercise now. “You are very kind,” she said hesitatingly, “but I don’t remember—I don’t think that I know you, do I?” “I am afraid that you do not,” he admitted, with a smile which he meant to be encouraging. . Anna turned deliberately away from the bedside. “You were married to him!” “It could not be legal,” Annabel moaned.
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