There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations. A mutual recognition took place at the same instant between the stranger and this individual. Don't build your hopes too high; but I will do what I can. You’ve got me. "To be sure I will, my child. “You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. “I never saw Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified. This is not the conduct of a jeune demoiselle. She had never been to the opera before except as one of a congested mass of people in the cheaper seats, and with backs and heads and women’s hats for the frame of the spectacle; there was by contrast a fine large sense of space and ease in her present position. She heard the ocean in the distance, waves crashing on the beach, high tide.
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