” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. “Why could you not confide in us?” “Do what?” said Ann Veronica. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her into the young man's room. “It’s a nice holiday. " "Perhaps not," replied Jack, to whom an idea had suddenly occurred. That night in his den he smoked many pipes. I ought never to have thought of it.
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