Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared. “I have been training myself to look askance at beautiful things. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. “I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica; “I think I am. My only excuse is that I missed my way here, and I am leaving Paris early to-morrow morning.
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