CHAPTER XV.
As she looked back afterward upon that span of days, searching them, translating, Katie saw that the day of the golf and the dancing marked the farthest advance.
After that it was as if Ann, frightened at finding herself so far out in the open, shrank back into the shadows.

But having gone a little way into the open she was not again the same girl of the shadows.

Her response to life seeming thwarted, there came an incipient sullenness in her view of that life which she had reached over the bridge of make-believe.
It did not show itself at once, but afterward it seemed to Katie that the next day marked the beginning of Ann's retreat on the bridge of make-believe.
And she wondered whether the stray dog or the dangerous literature had most to do with that retreat.
Ann was pale and quiet the day after the dance, and it was not merely the languor of the girl who has fatigued herself in having a good time.
At luncheon Katie suddenly demanded: "Wayne, where do you get dangerous literature ?" "I don't know what form of danger you're courting, Katie.

I have a valuable work on high explosives, and I have a couple of volumes of De Maupassant." "Oh I weathered all that kind of danger long ago," said she airily.

"I want the kind that is distressing editors of church papers.