” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. "So you're writing under a nom de plume, eh?" said McClintock, holding out the letter. How old are you?’ ‘I have nineteen years, and it is quite unimportant. . Why would militia be infesting the place? And he must by now be aware of my interest. “And now,” said Ann Veronica surveying her apartment with an unprecedented sense of proprietorship, “what is the next step?” She spent the evening in writing—it was a little difficult—to her father and— which was easier—to the Widgetts. Perhaps you will meet him someday.
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