At the sound of the door Ann Veronica uncovered a tearless face, and with one swift movement assumed a conversational attitude. She was in ill trim for walking, but somehow or other she made her way as far as the Champs Elysées, and sank down upon an empty seat. “MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. She had gained respect all about town with news of her fine marriage, and her reputation as a beauty was expanding. He could not make good his hold. Fathers are abandoning their own children at the first sign of fever or buboes, Gianfrancesco! Priests have abandoned their churches. Some day I shall come back, and I will show you on canvas the things which have come to me up here amongst the eternal silence. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. " "But you are young!" It was a protest, almost vehement. " Which was literally the truth. His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. “Violence won’t do it,” said Ann Veronica. That’s why I wanted your weapons. “I have waited for this,” he said, and stood quite still, looking at her until the silence became oppressive.
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