Wood was dressed with more than ordinary care, and in more than ordinary finery. In some incomprehensible way that back view made her feel sorry for Alice. Ann Veronica had one of her flashes of insight. Jack was almost afraid of speaking; but at length he summoned courage to call out "Mother!" "Who's there?" asked a faint voice from the bed. So presently they got into a hansom together, and Ann Veronica sat back feeling very luxurious and pleasant, and looked at the light and stir and misty glitter of the street traffic from under slightly drooping eyelids, while Ramage sat closer to her than he need have done, and glanced ever and again at her face, and made to speak and said nothing. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely.
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