” She said. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. The young man had knocked over the siphon. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup. Tell me why you ran away from the convent. Nothing would stop her, and she was prepared to face the consequences.
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