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Do you promise to do this?" "Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter. Anna left the room on tiptoe. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. Henceforth Ruth would closely observe her fellow women and note the hang of their skirts. A bad one in a rough-and-tumble; all the water-front tricks. In fact he was thinking of other things. His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her. He had gained admission somehow, and he too was waiting for Anna.
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