" CHAPTER XVIII. Her thoughts were deflected from Vivie Warren by the peculiar behavior of a middle-aged gentleman in Piccadilly. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. "This she-devil has got hold of the sack. “For seven years,” said Ann Veronica, “I have been trying to keep myself from thinking about love. "Is she married?" he asked, after a brief pause. He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too late. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. I feel at moments as though I could bolt for it. The Bed Room 400 XIX.
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