” Hill staggered to his feet and drew a folded paper from his pocket. For a time Ann Veronica went on her way gauging the quality of sordid streets. “Look at me. ‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. ” She looked up at him quickly.
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