The young lady in the bureau said she would inquire, and Ann Veronica, while she affected to read the appeal on a hospital collecting-box upon the bureau counter, had a disagreeable sense of being surveyed from behind by a small, whiskered gentleman in a frock-coat, who came out of the inner office and into the hall among a number of equally observant green porters to look at her and her bags. “That young man was giving a luncheon party to a dozen friends at the Café de Paris to-day. He stepped quickly towards her. She obeyed, extending her arm. After class his routine was unchanged. Husband of mine, I think we have rather overrated the emotional capacity of those—those dears. Anna felt that her words had become charged with a fuller and more subtle meaning than any which she had intended to impart. “You need not be alarmed,” he said.
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