“But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. " "Not a farthing more, I assure you," rejoined Ireton, pettishly; "we're all on the square here. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. Yet her hands dropped, and she sighed deeply. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. Obeying some fine instinct, she had come to the prison in a dark veil, but she had pushed this up to kiss Ann Veronica and never drawn it down again.
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