He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. ‘Why, you have heard yourself all that is being said. She was leaning over him and he smelled her like he had never smelled anyone before. Not only that, but he is here in London. Men have seen to that. I don’t see how they can be. Again, he would ask a few questions, and Ruth would answer them. “Had the pleasure of dining with you at the ‘Ambassador’s’ one night, before the show, you know—last September I think it was.
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