The chance had gone. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. “You ass and imbecile, Ann Veronica! You female cad! Cad! Cad!. ‘And so also have I. I thought it was a mirror at the first, for it was so very like myself. ” “All the more reason why she shouldn’t get herself talked about. Certain phases of irony always caused him to chuckle audibly. “I was trying to design a personal hovercraft. CHAPTER XII.
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