Sir John hesitated. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. “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. She could hardly remember his face except for his brown hair, thick lips, and narrow dark eyes. “Before you do anything else I should advise you to secure those charred fragments of paper from the grate. Very well! I will try to help you. Never had her father explained.
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