Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. “Come,” he continued, “the world after all is a very small place. We have a great deal to discuss, you and I. He looked from the sword to the dagger with which he had brought her down here, and grimaced. ” She opened the car door for herself. But—It’s just this: who was to be hurt?” “I wish no one had to be hurt,” said Ann Veronica. Hang it, there must be something about her that will give it away. Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that coat. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike.
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