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Table of contents
ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-1-2
ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-3-4
ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-5-6
ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-7
ANN VERONICA GATHERS POINTS OF VIEW-1-2
ANN VERONICA GATHERS POINTS OF VIEW-3
THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS-1-2
THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS-3-4-5
THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS-6-7
THE CRISIS-1-2-3-4
THE FLIGHT TO LONDON-1-2-3
THE FLIGHT TO LONDON-4-5-6
EXPOSTULATIONS-1-2-3-4
EXPOSTULATIONS-5-6
IDEALS AND A REALITY-1-2
IDEALS AND A REALITY-3-4
IDEALS AND A REALITY-5-6-7
BIOLOGY-1-2
BIOLOGY-3-4-5-6
BIOLOGY-7-8-9
DISCORDS-1
DISCORDS-2-3-4
DISCORDS-5-6-8-9
THE SUFFRAGETTES-1-2-3
THE SUFFRAGETTES-4-5
THOUGHTS IN PRISON-1-2-3-4-5-6
ANN VERONICA PUTS THINGS IN ORDER-1-2-3-4-5-6-7
THE SAPPHIRE RING-1-2-3-4
THE SAPPHIRE RING-5-6
THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT-1-2-3
THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT-4-5-6
THE LAST DAYS AT HOME-1-2-3
IN THE MOUNTAINS-1-2-3-4
IN THE MOUNTAINS-5-6-7-8-9-10-11
IN PERSPECTIVE-1-2-3

scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that 

beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind 

dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand 

flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf 

to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing 

Patience--playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died 

together. A faint buzz above the ceiling witnessed that petrography, 

too, was active. Gray and tranquil world! Amazing, passionless world! A 

world in which days without meaning, days in which "we don't want things 

to happen" followed days without meaning--until the last thing happened, 

the ultimate, unavoidable, coarse, "disagreeable." It was her last 

evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. Warm 

reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. Away 

in London even now Capes was packing and preparing; Capes, the magic man 

whose touch turned one to trembling fire. What was he doing? What was he 

thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. Seventeen 

hours, sixteen hours. She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the 

exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid 

calculation. To be exact, it was just sixteen hours and twenty minutes. 

The slow stars circled on to the moment of their meeting. The softly 

glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, 

over valleys of haze and warm darkness.... There would be no moon. 

 

"I believe after all it's coming out!" said Miss Stanley. "The aces made 

it easy." 

 

Ann Veronica started from her reverie, sat up in her chair, became 

attentive. "Look, dear," she said presently, "you can put the ten on the 

Jack." 

 

 

 


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