” “There’s green-fly,” admitted Ann Veronica. . She is in the hall now. “Gracious!” she exclaimed to herself. Don’t take my word for it though. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. But I don’t wish to hear that abomination on her lips again. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. “The conventions do not matter one little bit.
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