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Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. "Tell Mr. . “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. I am dreadfully sad. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. She felt the whack from about six feet away, kitty corner. " "Sir!" exclaimed Winifred.
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