‘That little kiss cost him his sanctuary, my girl, and don’t you forget it. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. “Was he really?” She asked, waiting on baited breath. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. One thing—he could be thankful for that—the peak of his misfortunes had been reached; the world might come to an end now and not matter in the least. There was nothing in his manner to suggest the misery of the preceding night. Ann Veronica was not aware of this literary side of her teacher; she had a little tinge of annoyance at Miss Garvice’s advantage. The clock struck half-past ten. .
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