Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. He kissed her again. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. ‘Of course not,’ snapped his friend. I am suspected of having shot the man. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. "What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. "Sir Cecil is no more. If any of you—or all of you feel the same in six months’ time from to-day, will you come, if you care to, and see me then?” There was a brief silence.
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