Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. You are NOT going to that ball!” Ann Veronica tried a less genial, more dignified note. “I believed that he was the great multi-millionaire. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. You are queerly educated; and it strikes me that your father had some definite purpose in thus educating you. He was no doubt doing his best to express the attitude of society toward these wearily heroic defendants, but he seemed to be merely rude and unfair to Ann Veronica. She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home. To settle things, you know.
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