He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. The Yale spirit! Ah Cum smiled whimsically. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb. He talked with his manner gentle and kindly. Presently repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it.
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