The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly, and said, in a deep, arch voice: “Talking of love again; spring again, love again. “Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you. She would never return to her father; that resolution was final. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun.
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