It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. For a space he rode the whirligig. Ann Veronica sat back with a sigh of relief. " "He's let out for a few hours," laughed Kneebone; "but he's going back again after supper. Ran in the family.
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