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” It was her last evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. It is I who am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband. ” She interrupted as Ann Veronica was about to speak again, with a bright contagious hopefulness. Your father has forbidden you to go!’” “Well?” “She said, ‘I hate being horrid to you and father, but I feel it my duty to go to that ball!’” “Felt it her duty!” “‘Very well,’ I said, ‘then I wash my hands of the whole business. Gods! what it must be to pour out strong, splendid verse—mighty lines! mighty lines! If I do, Ann Veronica, it will be you.
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