Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. “Her husband was a county councillor, and she has a niece who comes to see her in a carriage. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it. Was it a week ago? No, perhaps more. The hardest bout I ever had was with a woman—Sally Wells, who was afterwards lagged for shoplifting. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. “After all, how easy the descent is, even for the greatest of us.
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