John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. “Yes, John. I thought that you were he. And when they got to Covent Garden Ramage secured one of the little upper boxes, and they came into it as the overture began. The man’s passion became almost unbearable at the thought of losing her. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. But I suppose as I’ll have to wait until you can hear me to tell you again. We stepped from the Embassy into the motor—and oh! I thought that he was dead. It will hold aloof, a little undecided whether to pelt or not—” “That depends whether we carry ourselves as though we expected pelting,” said Ann Veronica. ” “I like the mystical way,” she said. For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds.
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