Chapter VI
A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION
The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly
through his gold eye-glasses. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away
from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. Ann Veronica was by this time quite shocked at her own thoughts, and yet
they would go on with their freaks. When he reached the happy ending, he waited. She became as The Tigress, a free thing. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were
in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure!
but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street
again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. On your own. “I wonder if it is. Mrs. ‘It is not your affair. And, decently as he could, McClintock
was giving the man the boot. E. ”
“What did you hear?” Lucy felt herself unwillingly
compelled to hang on Michelle’s every word.
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