The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. He began to tell me something—and stopped. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. “It was great, Shari!” She replied the stars still in her eyes. They will guess that I am English. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee. “A little nervous. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. Can you imagine how dreadful it must be for them? Most of them arrive here almost penniless. She was always initiating petty breaches of discipline.
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