Ann Veronica pushed aside a tea-cup and the vestiges of her strawberries and cream, and put her elbows before her on the table. “I am going,” she said grimly, with three hairpins in her mouth. The prisoner, however, submitted more quietly than was anticipated. ’ ‘Je m’en moque. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. Do you mean to tell me you didn’t understand why I wanted you to come here?” “Not a bit of it,” said Ann Veronica stoutly. Her eyes fell, and then sought his again with timid interest. “Who are you?” She asked innocently. I pray you, Gérard, do not fail me. Or had you not noticed?’ He sneered. Voices floated down, but there was no sound of pursuit.
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