“You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. "She in intensely impressionable and romantic, and probably she is giving the chap qualities he doesn't possess. Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout.
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