She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. “What have I done, Miss Pellissier?” he pleaded. Could she go through with it? She must. These women could not be bad, else the hotel would not have permitted them to enter! Still, the scene presented a riddle: to give immunity to the black women who went about all but naked and to damn the white for exposing their shoulders! She had eaten but little; all her hunger had been in her eyes—and in her heart. CHAPTER III. One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back. Jonathan, though a very powerful man, was like an infant in his gripe. “I want some advice,” said Ann Veronica. ” She groaned aloud and bowed her forehead to her knees. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself.
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