There must be ways of getting rid of him. He turned in at the club. Stanley regarded him through his glasses with something approaching animosity. Why ever did you let me get into that wagonette?” “I thought we had to,” said Ann Veronica, who had also been a little under the compulsion of the marshals of the occasion. Only an undermaid I was then. Once a sick sailor drew three pictures for me and set down every stay and brace and sail—square-rigger, schooner, and sloop. ’ ‘You see, I am of them,’ she said seriously, ‘but not with them—yet. His face was very serious. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. Did you ever go by any other names, ma’am?” “Yes. Here we are absconding, pretending to be what we are not; shady, to say the least of it. “To begin with, I was—I was in the divorce court.
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