Our ideal had fallen. “I thought I saw her in town to-day,” he said. After the first violent outbreak of grief had in some degree subsided, Thames addressed him. Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. It was a pity he didn't break his neck, for he was hanged within the year. “My dear Anna,” he answered. He said simply that he wanted her to live at home.
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