” “I thought I explained—” “I don’t think you can have heard me,” said her father; “I have told you to come home. ” She said. Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. That is how I learned that there were such things as novels. 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.
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