simply lost all hope. "Take this key to Baptist Kettleby. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. Ramage, that iron-gray man of the world, appeared dressed in a bowler hat and a suit of hard gray, astride of a black horse. The girls had such freedom, a wonderful chance afforded to them to go out in the wide world before making babies, it was nothing like the world she had come of age in. Life seemed a very brave and glorious enterprise to Ann Veronica that day. I have suffered—I have sinned—I have repented. Yes, there was someone there. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality.
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