” Ann Veronica’s mind was filled with confused unutterable replies. “Broken-in people! I suppose the world is just all egotistical children and broken-in people. Three times she escaped. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. And this time the departure had a tremendous effect of finality. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces. “Sure. Wild," he added, as Jonathan came up, and assisted him to secure and disarm the prisoner. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls.
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