A lesson learned. He looked at his friend. He had had five children at irregular intervals, of whom Ann Veronica was the youngest, so that as a parent he came to her perhaps a little practised and jaded and inattentive; and he called her his “little Vee,” and patted her unexpectedly and disconcertingly, and treated her promiscuously as of any age between eleven and eight-and-twenty. The hurricane had now reached its climax. It was quite dark; but as some of the assemblage carried links, it was soon ascertained to be headed by the same party who had mainly incited the former disturbance. Ann Veronica watched her and wondered about her. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her.
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