Lord, I am sixty. “One has to be so careful of one’s friends and acquaintances,” he remarked, by way of transition. Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire. ‘You cannot be André Valade if you tell them I am one of this family. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. A struggle of the most terrific kind now ensued. ” The maid discreetly withdrew, and Anna stood transfixed, gazing with puzzled frown at her sister. She watched her friend rise and go towards her affianced husband, a look of mischief in her face.
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