CHAPTER XIII. They’re just all men, and no one is safe from scandal. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes. F. Ann Veronica found herself walking back down the Avenue that had just been the scene of her first proposal beside her aunt, and speculating for the first time in her life about that lady’s mental attitudes. "If you don't stop its squalling, I will. He is the one who has said that she must go to the convent. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. And that would spoil it. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate.
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