The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. “Let go!” said Ann Veronica, through her teeth, strenuously inflicting agony, and he cried out sharply and let go and receded a pace. “Thank Heaven, they are bringing the hors d’oeuvres. "You have betrayed me," said he, in a deep whisper, to his companion; "but you shall reap the reward of your treachery. ” “I want a vote,” said Ann Veronica. "I shall want a bottle or two of sack, and a flask of usquebaugh.
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