. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. ” “The truth,” she murmured, with her eyes fixed upon him. ” He looked at her anxiously, and she met his glance with a dazzling smile of gratitude.
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