Vorsack sauntered into the room, sporting her usual toothy thin254 lipped grin. It did not matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. ’ ‘You wouldn’t,’ agreed Mrs Sindlesham. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. As he returned to the table, he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought he had a much better chance of winning his wager. It slipped out—as did that “she”. Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck.
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