The party resolved itself for Ann Veronica into a game in which she manoeuvred unostentatiously and finally unsuccessfully to avoid talking alone with this gentleman. He was all alone, too. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. A robbery has been committed, and your master suspects this lad as an accessory to the offence. Clearing the few impediments in his way, he soon reached the condemned pew, where it had once been his fate to sit; and extending himself on the seat endeavoured to snatch a moment's repose. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. Her tone was icy. “It’s the spring,” he said.
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