"You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears. He hadn't played fair. 132 “I thought you wanted me—you told me so when we kissed in the park!” He cried. What passed between them I cannot think—I dare not. It is abominable—” “What is the use of keeping up this note of indignation, Ann Veronica? Here I am! I am your lover, burning for you.
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