Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. ‘Cover her, men. “Think of what Lady Palsworthy will say! Think of what”—So-and-so —“will say! What are we to tell people? “Besides, what am I to tell your father?” At first it had not been at all clear to Ann Veronica that she would refuse to return home; she had had some dream of a capitulation that should leave her an enlarged and defined freedom, but as her aunt put this aspect and that of her flight to her, as she wandered illogically and inconsistently from one urgent consideration to another, as she mingled assurances and aspects and emotions, it became clearer and clearer to the girl that there could be little or no change in the position of things if she returned. ‘From the convent, where else?’ ‘It does not strike me that you can possibly have been in a convent. For Mr Jarvis was beside himself when the letter come from Mr Charvill and he knew he’d lost you as well as Miss Mary. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon. E. By and by he gathered enough courage to lean toward her. But out of a belated regard for her father she wrote the surname of some one else.
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