” Ann Veronica opened her lips quickly and did not speak. ” Ann Veronica read this letter through with grave, attentive eyes. ‘By traitors I am surrounded!’ ‘Stop talking utter twaddle,’ ordered Roding, marching up to the desk. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. No matter. Without her, it was lonely. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. I shall always be kind to him; I sha'n't bait him. Against the sinister, the threatening, monstrous inhumanity of the limitless city, there was nothing now but this supreme, ugly fact of a pursuit— the pursuit of the undesired, persistent male. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face.
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