” “There’s a sort of instinct of rebellion,” said Capes. An inarticulate instinct which now found expression. She expanded that. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side.
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