Ann Veronica sat back with a sigh of relief. She felt she was now near her boy, and, nothing doubting her ability to rescue him from his perilous situation, she breathed a fervent prayer for his deliverance; and bending her steps towards the tavern in question, revolved within her mind as she walked along the best means of accomplishing her purpose. He must not in any way call their attention to it. "He was thrown overboard, and perished at sea. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. "Who took it thence?" "Thames Darrell; the boy at your side. ” She shivered. 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. He must preserve it, however, as they preserved the Ark of the Covenant. The old fool’s been working on you through your sister to keep off the stage.
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