I must!” She threw open the door and pointed to it. ” So they went this time to the Rococo, in Germain Street, and up-stairs to a landing upon which stood a bald-headed waiter with whiskers like a French admiral and discretion beyond all limits in his manner. I have written, called—of what avail is anything—against that look. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper.
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