She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. Sordid; but that was not Ruth's term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer. Ann Veronica watched him from the dining-room window, and after some moments of maidenly hesitation rambled out into the garden in a reverse direction to Mr. Sheppard's time it was even more beautiful than at present, when the hand of improvement has proceeded a little too rashly with alterations and repairs.
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