She found herself alone in the train asking herself what she must do next, and trying not to think of herself as cut off from home or any refuge whatever from the world she had resolved to face. He watched her, savoring her curious attention. “What do we want? What is the goal?” asked Ann Veronica. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER. Each wing had a small cupola; and, in the centre of the pile rose a larger dome, surmounted by a gilded ball and vane. The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. I have said that I am but a nun now. This is a mere boy. ’ ‘Of what use to be ladylike when I cannot be a lady?’ ‘None of that.
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