“I want to show you something. She crept out of the shadows. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. The booming voice and the energetic movements spoke plainly of hurry. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. If he decided to watch television upstairs with his mother, she would probably retire before he did, but she was a light sleeper.
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