‘That was one of my own clever stories. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. “I haven’t a scrap—of this sort of aversion. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault. Jack had well-nigh fallen too. How do you like the story?” “Go on,” said Ann Veronica, a little hoarsely, “tell me all of it. Look! Is that some one coming out?” The front door of the flats stood open, and through it a woman, slim and veiled, passed on to the pavement and turned with swift footsteps in the opposite direction. She was too late. Could she hold him and manage the reins? If only Gerald had not gone. "How so?" asked Wild, curiously.
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