She loved to dress the Fritz and Anna in outfits that she stitched from discarded velvet dresses. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. It wouldn’t be you. “You see,” said Ann Veronica, staring before her at the window-sash, “that’s the form my question takes at the present time. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself.
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