A note of belligerency had crept into his tone. ” “Not in the least,” Anna answered calmly. Then instinct took over. Through her door curtain she could see the light from the study lamp. “I—I didn’t love the man I was engaged to,” she said. “I don’t know, John. They were bathing in the stream. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. The theme was a masquerade. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. The effects of the heroin wore off slowly. All she needed to do was to have a body. Teddy Widgett hovered on the fringe of all these gatherings, blinking at Ann Veronica and occasionally making a wildly friendly dash at her, and carrying her and Miss Miniver off to drink cocoa with a choice diversity of other youthful and congenial Fabians after the meetings.
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