Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. She took it for granted Ann Veronica wore stays—mild stays, perhaps, but stays, and thought no more of the matter. Anything else that was said she now regarded only as an aspect of or diversion from that. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. “Perhaps you will help me shuffle?” Ann Veronica did, and also assisted nimbly with the arrangements of the rows of eight with which the struggle began. He then arose, and, taking a few turns in the chamber, stopped suddenly before her. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him.
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