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“You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. " "Peace!" retorted Jack, with increased bitterness. “A wonderful piece of work,” he declared. There was plenty of sweet water. . He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. Pottiswick had mentioned muttering.

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