She rose from her chair, and began walking up and down the room restlessly. She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face. "Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations. ’ A giggle answered him. He was no match for Brendon. But there is need for the proof that I am me, and that is what I look for.
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