Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. Wood, who were, furthermore, engaged in a little conjugal tête-à-tête of their own. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. ” “Pretty name. Hogarth," remarked Jack, dejectedly. Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tomtoms, the weird music, the ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind.
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