"I am here, you see," said the smith. " And muttering some remarks, which we do not care to repeat, reflecting upon the consistency of the sex, he was preparing once more to depart, when Mrs. A bowl of roses, just brought by Ann Veronica, adorned the communal dressing-table, and Ann Veronica was particularly trim in preparation for a call she was to make with her aunt later in the afternoon. “Heavens!” she exclaimed. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. “How do you know?” “Well, it isn’t exactly a depressing state, is it?” “YOU don’t know. But, like all your overbearing sex, you must have your own way. “What do you think of them?” Anna extended her critical survey and shrugged her shoulders.
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