The tears flowed faster. But it was her proof. Again having recourse to the centre-bit,—for Winifred's door was locked,—Jack had nearly cut out a panel, when a sudden outcry was raised in the carpenter's chamber. It was so easy to forget the imminent threats of being discovered during times of peace. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this. As for himself, there had never been a touch of it.
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