He had had five children at irregular intervals, of whom Ann Veronica was the youngest, so that as a parent he came to her perhaps a little practised and jaded and inattentive; and he called her his “little Vee,” and patted her unexpectedly and disconcertingly, and treated her promiscuously as of any age between eleven and eight-and-twenty. "He will live," answered Ruth. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. "I don't understand you, gentlemen," stammered he, at length.
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