Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. There must be something we can do. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used.
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