"Well, well, we'll say no more about it," replied Wood; "and, by way of changing the subject, let me advise you on no account to fly to strong waters for consolation, Joan. He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. ‘Then it must certainly be Eugénie. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green object that clashed as it was put down.
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