She decided to go out into the London afternoon again and get something to eat in an Aerated Bread shop or some such place, and perhaps find a cheap room for herself. The burden of decision had been transferred. In another instant, the collision took place. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. It seemed to show a want of affection, to be a deliberate and unmerited disregard, to justify the reprisal of being hurt. But he has never been near her—never. I believe I have always been in love with you. “On the stage? Yes. But even with that furniture it remained extremely vague, the possible good and the possible evil as well! The possible evil! “I’ll go,” said Ann Veronica for the hundredth time. She seemed to have recovered herself as he returned, but rose as if she would go back to the saloon. Perhaps she did love research for its own sake, she was certainly gifted enough.
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