“Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. ’ She counted off on her fingers. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. " "But, do hear what it is," rejoined Winifred; "you know I'm shortly to be united to your nephew,—that is," she added, blushing, "when he can be married by his right name, for my father won't consent to it before. It remains a bizarre idea to me that Lucy Alberti could ever become so detailed or so real, but I’m certainly glad to have made her acquaintance. "You shall never behold me alive. It will hold aloof, a little undecided whether to pelt or not—” “That depends whether we carry ourselves as though we expected pelting,” said Ann Veronica. Well, I don't think they'll any of 'em nab him, that's one comfort.
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