‘What do you mean?’ ‘You have papers of identity, for the Mother Abbess told me so. But I'd a mind to try whether you really loved him as much as you pretended. “By God!” said Ann Veronica for the first time in her life. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. "But it is much to me. And also I have this Prudence.
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