“I say, daddy,” she began, and was suddenly short of breath. But to-day he did not get beyond half a dozen desultory start-offs. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. “You understand, then,” he was saying, “you understand?” “I understand,” said Ann Veronica, tear-wet and flushed with a reciprocal passion, but standing up to him with an equality that amazed even herself, “I understand. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. The doctor had sown a seed, carelessly. . “Why not? It might amuse me.
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