He looked at her reproachfully. . He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. “I had a dream in the night,” she said. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. “Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up. Its heroes never had daughters, they borrowed other people’s. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent.
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