I wonder, Ann Veronica, if, when our time comes, we shall be any wiser?” Ann Veronica watched a water-beetle fussing across the green depths. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. “I wish they did,” he said, “but they don’t. ” She yelled back. I suppose we’re all human beings really, but what price the sacred Institution of the Family! Us as a bundle! Eh?. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer.
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