Ruth wore a printed cotton kimono. Fortescue had not much ability to keep her sister, and a little while after her mother’s death Ann Veronica met Gwen suddenly on the staircase coming from her father’s study, shockingly dingy in dusty mourning and tearful and resentful, and after that Gwen receded from the Morningside Park world, and not even the begging letters and distressful communications that her father and aunt received, but only a vague intimation of dreadfulness, a leakage of incidental comment, flashes of paternal anger at “that blackguard,” came to Ann Veronica’s ears. She rapped on Michelle’s door loudly. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply. On the envelope was written— Sydney Courtlaw, Esq. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. But you must tell her. The woollen-draper looked at his watch. I bored him. Leaning upon a gate he looked down into the valley. “But about last night. They did not spend most days together. Mrs. Lucy went hunting on a Thursday night.
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