She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. " "Oh! certainly," answered Griffin; "certainly. She did not so much deal with Ann Veronica’s interpolations as dispose of them with quick and use-hardened repartee, and then she went on with a fine directness to sketch the case for her agitation, for that remarkable rebellion of the women that was then agitating the whole world of politics and discussion. “But I am your husband,” he said. ’ Much to Melusine’s chagrin, Gerald folded his arms and leaned back, as if wholly at his ease.
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