" "Let me have a glass of brandy," said he, addressing the host. "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. Or else I would have finished him. ” “H’m!” said Ann Veronica, and shook her head. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. I put my foot down like—like adamant. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. ‘She is a maid only, and I do not believe she has married Emile. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window. ‘And it is me you dare accuse? It is yourself you should arrest. "If I spoke to him, my interest might be misinterpreted.
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