Both Spurlock and McClintock stood by their chairs until she was gone. The thought did not occur to her, for all thought had flown out of her head. Ann Veronica was not ready enough to deal with that counter-stroke. A common rage flushed their faces. But none ever puts his foot on this boat. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. Books! Aren't they wonderful?" The blind alley of life stretching out before her, with its secret doorways and hidden menaces; and she was unconcerned. He installed Anna in a comfortable easy chair, and placed his own between her and the door.
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