After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. She was furiously angry. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression. ‘She’s perfectly right. I ought to have gone long ago. "This young fool is come to restore the article—whatever it may be—which Lady Trafford was anxious to conceal, and which his companion purloined. She lifted her shoulders in an eloquent shrug. I shouldn't care to have attention constantly drawn to us. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. And this damning evidence―’ with a brusque gesture at the portrait ‘―must also be destroyed. She had told Emile. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. It had certainly caused some havoc in the uninhabited mansion, chewing through Holland covers to get at the furniture beneath, and knocking down a fire guard and a couple of wooden stands. As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard his own name pronounced, and found that it was a hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes. “You’re.
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