"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. She had never felt so cold, she felt even colder than she had in the water. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. . He saw her, dripping with rosy pearls, rise out of the lagoon in the dawn light: he saw her flashing to and fro among the coco palms in the moonshine: he saw her breasting the hurricane, her body as full of grace and beauty as the Winged Victory of the Louvre. He would have risen again, but for the significance of the action. “And where are YOU going?” he said. At length, she suddenly started to her feet; and before Winifred could prevent her, staggered up to Thames. You were very good. “There’s another instinct, too,” he went on, “in a state of suppression, unless I’m very much mistaken; a child-expelling instinct. Lady Palsworthy liked Ann Veronica because she was never awkward, had steady eyes, and an almost invariable neatness and dignity in her clothes. The very blank, however, affected him more deeply than if it had been left. For this three weeks had been the hardest of her life. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers.
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