"I will not submit to be thus interrogated," said Winifred, angrily. ” Miss Stanley reflected as Ann Veronica went toward the house. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy. Her heart's in the right place, at all events; and, since that's the case, the rest may perhaps come round, —that is, if she gets through her present illness.
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