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276 He opened the box. ’ His friend held it out of the way. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears. " Pain was stabbing him, now here, now there; pain was real enough; but he could not establish as a fact in his throbbing brain the presence of his aunt in the doorway. She fought him at first, screaming at him, but he did not relent. That is so awful. ‘You have said you do not wish to marry me,’ she accused. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter, beginning 'dearest Aliva,'—that's your mother's name, Thames. . . And then came the vile experience of being forced and borne along the street to the police-station. Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire. ” He pronounced this with an air of profound conviction and with his eyes on Ann Veronica’s face.
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