The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. "How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. Fortescue had not much ability to keep her sister, and a little while after her mother’s death Ann Veronica met Gwen suddenly on the staircase coming from her father’s study, shockingly dingy in dusty mourning and tearful and resentful, and after that Gwen receded from the Morningside Park world, and not even the begging letters and distressful communications that her father and aunt received, but only a vague intimation of dreadfulness, a leakage of incidental comment, flashes of paternal anger at “that blackguard,” came to Ann Veronica’s ears. But it is all over now, and presently there will be some one else.
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