The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears. “How dare you!” she panted, with her world screaming and grimacing insult at her. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. But, perhaps, you'll first accompany me to my dwelling for a moment, that we may arrange our accounts before we start. To that, perhaps, a large part of its satisfyingness was due. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. "What has caused this quarrel, Thames?" asked the little girl, anxiously.
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