Peste, but everything had become difficult. Not up here, I think. Least of all myself. But—It’s just this: who was to be hurt?” “I wish no one had to be hurt,” said Ann Veronica. ” “It certainly was,” she admitted. ‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. I can esteem him, regard him; but, love him as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do. It comes to this—am I to be trusted to take care of myself, or am I not?” “To judge from this proposal of yours, I should say not. Well, I told aunt. Don’t ask me how. “I mean to,” she replied. She repeated phrases of Mrs. Ann Veronica pushed aside a tea-cup and the vestiges of her strawberries and cream, and put her elbows before her on the table.
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