She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face. But of what avail is this? You have no execution, no finish. To her, marriage would be a buckler against the two evils which pursued her. Hitherto in the world’s history there had been precursors of this Progress at great intervals, voices that had spoken and ceased, but now it was all coming on together in a rush. ’ ‘No, I won’t. ” Ann Veronica remained anxious to hear more of her sister’s story from her father’s point of view, but he did not go on. Ramage,” she said, clinging to her one point, “I want to get out of this horrible little room. This is retribution. What do you say to Brighton——” Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. If I surprised her, if I saw her alone, I might make her understand.
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