The mob pursued the thief-taker and his party all the way, and such missiles as could be collected were hurled at them. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. Not a word passed between them. F. “What were you doing?” Her voice was a little hysterical. He flung aside all his talk of help and disinterested friendship as though it had never been even a disguise between them, as though from the first it was no more than a fancy dress they had put quite understandingly upon their relationship. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. “I’m just off, aunt,” said Ann Veronica. Through no fault of her own.
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