One day they were at tea in the laboratory and a discussion sprang up about the question of women’s suffrage. ‘I’ll handle her better alone. Ann Veronica had been an ardent hockey player and had had a course of jiu-jitsu in the High School. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. A woman may choose any one for her lover, but for her friend she makes no mistake. She resolved not to allow him or her hunger detract from the performance at hand, as it would be a special one, an evening to be remembered in the gray days to follow like a precious jewel. Just as Hogarth got to the door, the turnkey stopped him. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his hands. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door.
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