In the pause she realized the attention of the others converged upon her, and that the tears were brimming over her eyes. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. "Well, Joan," said the benevolent mechanic, after he had looked at her steadfastly for a few moments, "what say you?—silence gives consent, eh?" Mrs. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies.
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