She knew that I cared for her, she had admitted that she cared for me. . She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. ” And thus it was that as Ann Veronica neared the gates of home, she said to herself: “I’ll have it out with him somehow. Have you been away from Morningside Park?” “I’m not interrupting you?” “You are. Haven’t I shown you over and over again that I mean you no harm? What do I have to do?’ ‘You can go away and leave me to my affairs,’ she threw at him. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock. 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. See, it is on my cards—M.
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