But the stone was slippery; and the tide, which here began to feel the influence of the fall, was running with frightful velocity. Ann Veronica took off her jacket and sat down in the corner chair, and leaned forward to look into the great hazy warm brown cavity of the house, and Ramage placed his chair to sit beside her and near her, facing the stage. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time. A discreet husband would leave the dispensation of his bounty, where women are concerned, to his wife.
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