” “I wish,” said Ann Veronica, with sudden anger, “that you could know what it is to live in a pit!” She stood up as she spoke, and put down her cup beside Miss Garvice’s. He still watched her and questioned her. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. “Oh! please don’t lose yourself in a wilderness of secondary considerations,” she said. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father. Wood glanced at the hardy offender, and not liking the expression of his countenance, thought it advisable to postpone the execution of his threats to a more favourable opportunity. Such was the simple code that displayed itself in all his thoughts.
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