And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. “Too bad to keep you waiting,” Annabel exclaimed. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. Smith obeyed. ” “It is hard to be distant from your own mother. She felt that perhaps, in her desire to play an adequate part in the conversation, she had talked rather more freely than she ought to have done, and given him a wrong impression of herself. Perhaps you will explain the state of panic into which I seem to have thrown you. Ann Veronica said she didn’t care. “Oh, damn!” he said. ’ ‘Grossly unfair, too. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. ‘One of they Frenchies, that’s what I say—if it ain’t a ghost.
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