Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. “Vee,” she said, “come home. I want to know more about her. ” The change in Lady Ferringhall’s manner was subtle but unmistakable. What a girl of sixteen cares for is hair and a high color and moonlight and a tenor voice. “It is hateful—diabolical!” he exclaimed. Now she knew why the soldiers had not caught him. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. "You have lived over here?"—astonished.
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