” She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to the tall, gloomy lodging-house. Anna picked up an ancient magazine, and began to turn over the pages in a leisurely way. Wood rest till he brought the villains to justice. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. If Ray left the house, it would be easy. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters.
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