The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand resting lightly on her waist. ‘No, no, Jacques, you have done very right. ” To which the only possible reply seemed to be, “I’m not coming home. She felt the thrill race through her body. If we were set upon I could not defend you. ‘And so?’ she asked. She has no proof—yet. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness.
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