” “With you!” “And as for your people?” “They don’t count. ‘You are mad,’ Gosse uttered, and only just had time to get himself up from the floor. “I did it for love of you,” he said. Oh God! pardon me. Afterwards she hunted up the article in question, and it seemed to her quite delightfully written and argued. Then she shrugged. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. It tore her apart. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. Kneebone's door, you begged me to await your return here, assuring me you would not detain me five minutes.
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