The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. It wasn’t so much women as Woman that engaged his mind. John eased off. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. “Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. Like a petulant child he snapped. Everyone has gone away again, so that I can do so all alone. By this action, Lucy already knew what the answer was.
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