A door slammed. Prison was beastly. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. 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. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. " "It was the knowledge of this feeling on your part, my love, that made me act without your express sanction. He stopped in mid-sentence, and Ann Veronica opened the door for her aunt. With all your cunning, we're more than a match for you. Unobserved, she knelt and kissed the threshold: for she knew what kisses were now.
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