CHAPTER THE NINTH DISCORDS Part 1 One afternoon, soon after Ann Veronica’s great discovery, a telegram came into the laboratory for her. " "Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. Now, you know where he is bound. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. She stopped abruptly, and looked in a flower-shop window. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention.
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