This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. ’ ‘No, sister, I know that, but—’ ‘You needn’t tell me. "Ha! say you so? You must be looked to. " "God forbid!" exclaimed Wood, fervently; and, as if afraid of prolonging the interview, he added, with some precipitation, "But I must be going: I've stayed here too long already. CHAPTER THE SECOND ANN VERONICA GATHERS POINTS OF VIEW Part 1 “Are you coming to the Fadden Dance, Ann Veronica?” asked Constance Widgett.
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