“Hotel Ritz!” Chapter XXXI ANNA’S TEA PARTY “I suppose you haven’t the least idea who I am,” Lady Lescelles said, as she settled herself in Anna’s most comfortable chair. But I’m not a slut either, if that’s what you think. ‘One does not blow off the head of a man with whom one is in love, en effet. Wild is sure to be up. If you two are examples of the modern miss, I don’t know what the world is coming to. Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade. One was in the Indian Civil Service and one in the rapidly developing motor business. Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. Sir Rowland Trenchard is aware of your return to England.
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