“The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. ” “I do it—of my own free will,” said Ann Veronica, kissing his hand again. “Take her limbs again. “It isn’t objections exactly. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. Whatever anticipation Ann Veronica had formed of this vanished in the reality. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. She dare not risk it.
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