She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Nevertheless, she could not prevent a rising excitement as the dawn of the new life drew near to her—a thrilling of the nerves, a secret and delicious exaltation above the common circumstances of existence. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation. “Anna,” she cried, “you must believe me. We were alike. What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think. “There’s no one here except me. .
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