Her fingers rested upon his. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. But a time will come (and that before long,) when our sex will assert its superiority; and, when we have got the upper hand, let 'em try to subdue us if they can. Then for a time she sat very still. She was very pale, but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” as he had first known her. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror.
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