“Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. ‘I know,’ said Prudence Sindlesham, sympathy in her tone. She was a merry creature, it is true, and quite beautiful. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. “Now I see what everything means,” said Ann Veronica to herself; and it really felt for some days as though the secret of the universe, that had been wrapped and hidden from her so obstinately, was at last altogether displayed.
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