13 with a latchkey went humming lightly up to her room. It reached her only slowly that Ann Veronica was standing to her resolution. “I don’t know why. Perhaps I ought not to; but this isn't a case to fiddle-faddle over. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand. You are nothing of the sort. If there is any drinking, I'll do it. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. The fellow is little better than a lunatic. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. You must let me do whatever I can for you. “Have you any money?” “Lots,” Anna answered laconically.
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