I ought never to have thought of it. A skeleton was propped against the mantelpiece. One always dreamed of this and never believed it. 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. After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup. "You open it, Ruth.
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