A diversion was created by the violent struggles of the little old lady. ‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you. I’ve bored you or something. A boy no older than she, Gianfrancesco’s cousin, whispered what he would like to do to her when she stole into the hallways near the women’s chambers to fix herself. She wanted to think. Perhaps in the beginning the women made fools of themselves over him. She hesitated about her name, and, being prompted, gave it at last as Ann Veronica Smith, 107A, Chancery Lane. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. She assumed with a kind of mesmeric force all the propositions that Ann Veronica wanted her to define. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. ’” “What did he say?” “What does any one say to an invitation to dinner point-blank? One tries to collect one’s wits.
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