" "That is to say, you wish you had let me die?" "That was the thought. You must wait till supper's over. I want my freedom. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. I was not even sure whether it was loaded. The man muttered something inaudible, and gathered up the reins.
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