3. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. ‘My dear boy, your loyalty is misplaced. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. "Ah!" ejaculated Mrs. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. It was not quite the search I intended,’ he said with a touch of selfmockery as he released her, ‘but success comes in all sorts of unexpected ways. I want him as my friend. Vorsack sat alone at his computer in his pajamas. "And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours.
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