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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

was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a 

business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a 

pig's skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of 

shiny, black-covered note-books. In the corner of the room were two 

hockey-sticks and a tennis-racket, and upon the walls Ann Veronica, 

by means of autotypes, had indicated her proclivities in art. But Miss 

Stanley took no notice of these things. She walked straight across to 

the wardrobe and opened it. There, hanging among Ann Veronica's more 

normal clothing, was a skimpy dress of red canvas, trimmed with cheap 

and tawdry braid, and short--it could hardly reach below the knee. On 

the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave 

jacket. And then! a garment that was conceivably a secondary skirt. 

 

Miss Stanley hesitated, and took first one and then another of the 

constituents of this costume off its peg and surveyed it. 

 

The third item she took with a trembling hand by its waistbelt. As she 

raised it, its lower portion fell apart into two baggy crimson masses. 

 

"TROUSERS!" she whispered. 

 

Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. 

 

Tucked under the writing-table a pair of yellow and gold Turkish 

slippers of a highly meretricious quality caught her eye. She walked 

over to them still carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to 

examine them. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively 

gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas' best dancing-slippers. 

 

Then she reverted to the trousers. 

 

"How CAN I tell him?" whispered Miss Stanley. 

 

 

 

 

 

Part 2 

 

 

Ann Veronica carried a light but business-like walking-stick. She walked 

with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian 

portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a 

pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. And 

then her pace slackened. She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read 

Manning's letter. 

 

"Let me think," said Ann Veronica. "I wish this hadn't turned up to-day 

of all days." 

 

She found it difficult to begin thinking, and indeed she was anything 

but clear what it was she had to think about. Practically it was most 

of the chief interests in life that she proposed to settle in this 

pedestrian meditation. Primarily it was her own problem, and in 

particular the answer she had to give to Mr. Manning's letter, but in 

order to get data for that she found that she, having a logical and 


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