So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired. ” Mr. Ramage!” she began, and his mouth sealed hers and his breath was mixed with her breath.
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