“Where am I?” he muttered. Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned. . She had asked about that already, and her father had replied, evasively: “We’ll have to see about that, little Vee; we’ll have to see about that. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. Her father was distinctly irascible, and disposed more than ever to hide away among the petrological things—the study was turned out.
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