The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals. But the world didn’t do that. We'll get this chap on his feet if only to learn what the trouble is. "Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire.
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