‘You do not believe me?’ ‘I do not. Ann Veronica snatched at the opportunity, and spent most of the intervening time in the Assyrian Court of the British Museum, reading and thinking over a little book upon the feminist movement the tired woman had made her buy. This forthright dame was so excited, she could not keep still, but paced about the parlour much as Melusine had done earlier. I've always been more or less music-mad. That boy—blind as a bat! Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! From the first chord of the Grieg concerto to the finale of the Chopin ballade, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair. Gently she raised his head and withdrew the coat from under the pillow. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. And for me there is only one treasure-house. ‘That’s better,’ said Gerald, and let her go. ” Ann Veronica read this letter through with grave, attentive eyes.
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