And experience was slow in coming. How did you like Tristan?” Ann Veronica paused the fraction of a second before her reply came. His figure was tall and commanding, and the expression of his countenance (though somewhat disturbed by his recent exertion) was resolute and stern. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. He looked at it with uplifted eyebrows, but made no remark. Rousing himself, he went to the door. Blood, they say, won't come out. “But how can you?” asked Constance.
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