Wood, was pronounced by that lady to be very much sprained; and she, forthwith, proceeded to bathe it with a reddish-coloured lotion. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. 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. But what a monster was this Emile. "That's tremendous!" he cried. It is the only way. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. “Where?” “To that ball. I naturally want to do it up in proper style. Then she dropped the curtain and stepped back into the room. Anna made things for her.
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