’ A wary look came over her face, and Roding intervened. “For seven years,” said Ann Veronica, “I have been trying to keep myself from thinking about love. ” “And what do you think I ought to do?” “Exactly!” He lifted a paper-weight and dabbed it gently down again. I asked him to take me away, and hide me. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in the dark—as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something—her mother. It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet.
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