So presently they got into a hansom together, and Ann Veronica sat back feeling very luxurious and pleasant, and looked at the light and stir and misty glitter of the street traffic from under slightly drooping eyelids, while Ramage sat closer to her than he need have done, and glanced ever and again at her face, and made to speak and said nothing. He walked unsteadily towards the door. ” “Forty what?” Anna asked bewildered. She had not made friends with any; so they still eyed her askance. They got on wonderfully well together. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. She’s naïve, and yet uncannily shrewd at times, and you daren’t rely on anything she says. .
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