But I expect him back every minute. Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. The chair had extension arms over which a man might comfortably dangle his legs. He was an imaginative young man. She was trying to adjust the wimple, dragging at it and fighting with her loosened hair. Come along, you mad jade. Anyone would be intrigued. Through no fault of her own. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair.
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