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Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. The bump was coarse and didn’t feel right. There were moments when she thought of turning upon this man and talking to him. Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects. The carpenter trembled; for he perceived Rowland's gaze fixed first upon the infant, and then on himself. “Well, no,” she answered.
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