“No you don’t!” said Ann Veronica, and walked out at a brisk and businesslike pace toward the house. ” “I won’t keep you very long, daddy,” said Ann Veronica. “These are the playgrounds of life. ’ ‘No, sister, I know that, but—’ ‘You needn’t tell me. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. The fibre of his soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you.
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