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She had fallen into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. 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. ‘Courage,’ urged her spouse. ” “What case?” “A divorce—or something—I don’t know.
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