" "Be still!" returned Jonathan, in the same under tone, and with great selfpossession: "I can yet save you. She too had seen. . Yours?" The stranger hesitated. " "I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. We’re regarded as inflammable litter that mustn’t be left about. ‘You said?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham, your great-aunt, miss. Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. “Ask me nothing. What's all this about, anyhow? You.
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