E. ” “I understand,” he said, doggedly. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. ’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. ” “Your priestess,” whispered Ann Veronica, softly. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. ’ ‘He let them go?’ asked Miss Froxfield incredulously.
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