There were moments when Ann Veronica rather more than suspected the chief speakers to be, as school-boys say, showing off at her. The boy was coming around. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. “We have no airs and graces here, and my hat hangs from a peg in the passage. “Your arrival is really most opportune. I should say that having a doubt was enough to condemn it. E. “You haven’t seen him in three hundred years?” He asked.
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