" "On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily. You promise me you’ll never grow old, you hear?” “I promise. I am quite clear about this. “Do you hear!” she said “whatever you are, wherever you are! I will not be slave to the thought of any man, slave to the customs of any time. By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly. ” “Bit starchy,” said Ann Veronica, and altered the key abruptly. The sense of publicity, of people coming and going about them, kept them both unemotional.
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