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There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. ‘I trust you were not altogether disgusted when I kissed you. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. Beneath the hood it was evident that her rebellious hair was bound up with red silk, and fastened by some device in her ears (unless she had them pierced, which was too dreadful a thing to suppose!) were long brass filigree earrings. ” “Bit starchy,” said Ann Veronica, and altered the key abruptly.
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