“Beautiful these autumn flowers are,” said Ann Veronica, in a wide, uncomfortable pause. As soon as he finished a sheet, he tossed it aside and began another. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. Anna made things for her. ” He made to speak and did not. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs. “You are wrong! I did not think you thought such things. ” She said with a smile. " CHAPTER XXV.
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