It is abominable—” “What is the use of keeping up this note of indignation, Ann Veronica? Here I am! I am your lover, burning for you. ” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. Then with an indescribable relief her feet were on the pavement, and she was being urged along by two policemen, who were gripping her wrists in an irresistible expert manner. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief.
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