She laughed. ‘It must seem strange to you at first. ’ She halted, her pistol still held firm and straight, both hands gripping it, her expressive features at once determined and uncertain. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. One thing may be a necessary collateral of the others. The Ragged Edge. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. Voices floated down, but there was no sound of pursuit. We hide it bravely, but so it is. You're an angel of goodness. I should have thought my note cleared up everything.
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