” “Yes, but men;” said Ann Veronica, plunging; “don’t you want the love of men?” For some seconds they remained silent, both shocked by this question. ‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing. He was about to cut the sergeant short, when his eye fell on a gentleman walking along Piccadilly, his manner uncertain, his eyes shifting as if he sought something out. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him. He felt hands tugging at him, mysterious creatures with long fingers and sharp nails that pulled at his flesh. The music throbbed into the warnings that preceded the king’s irruption. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth.
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