Ann Veronica watched him from the dining-room window, and after some moments of maidenly hesitation rambled out into the garden in a reverse direction to Mr. ‘Scream and you are dead,’ he snapped, and released her mouth so that he might open the door. She regarded the young man coldly. ‘Would it so? What sort of a girl is she, then?’ ‘She’s a consummate devil,’ Gerald declared roundly. "You mistake,—you are mine. Send for Mr. Teas he contributed to the commissariat of Ann Veronica’s campaign—quite a number of teas. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it.
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