Chapter VII MISS PELLISSIER’S SUSPICIONS “Anna!” Anna kissed her sister and nodded to her aunt. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. “NOW!” said Ann Veronica. Two children, who had been caught in the jam-closet: ingratiating smiles, back of which lay doubt and fear. Ben watched these manoeuvres with great interest, and strained every sinew in his frame to keep ahead of the other boats. The applause was uproarious at the end of the concert. For she knew that men married to get something. “I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me. You owe what I have done for you, to him, not to me.
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