Ann Veronica hesitated with a question that had leaped up in her mind, and that she felt was cruel. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. "I shall breathe more freely dere. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg. " "But you are young!" It was a protest, almost vehement. I wouldn't trust a Malay, not if he were reared in the Vatican. “You see, it comes after all,” she continued, “from certain original convictions which have become my religion. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. good at that. F.
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