” “For a little time,” she answered. Tea in the laboratory was a sort of suffragette reception. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. “Can we watch television?” She asked. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon. "He can't escape. ” He caught up and went on with a sort of clumsiness: “Let me present you with them and be your voter. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. You Ann Veronica?” “Rather! I say—did you marry Gwen?” “Yes. ‘She may well try to go back. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. "You hear that," cried Mrs.
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