“Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. She was an Egyptian, from the magical times. Mac would have some new yarns to spin and a fresh turn-over to his celebrated liver. She had not made friends with any; so they still eyed her askance. Part 4 At eight that evening Miss Stanley tapped at Ann Veronica’s bedroom door.
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