‘This, as you see, is an identity for your cousin, André Valade. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. ’ For a moment he looked daunted. SHOOH!” “That’s no reason,” said Ann Veronica, speaking through her handkerchief and stopping abruptly. There was no way of recalling the words; so she waited. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. He was aware of trying to scream because he was paralyzed and his legs would not move.
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