“I don’t care what any one thinks,” said Ann Veronica. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. “Don’t be too sure of that,” she answered enigmatically. “You would appear to be trying to destroy a comradeship which has been very, very pleasant. ‘And then you will be obliged to remain in France,’ she pointed out. Charcoal. "I'm a peace-officer," he added, "about to arrest a notorious criminal.
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