Never sent for the shirt. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. ‘Mademoiselle. She glared at him with satisfaction. He hesitated for a moment and then he followed her. ” “Wherever you like!” he answered, a little absently. ‘Or do I arrest you and have these soldiers march you off to gaol?’ A sweep of his arm indicated the array of military strength on the benches, every eye of which was trained on the little scene being enacted before them.
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