His eyes were fixed upon her face, but he opened his lips twice before he spoke. You will be wearing your travelling dress, and no doubt you would prefer it. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. “I did not recognize him,” Anna answered. “It’s a matter of feeling with me. “Anything is better than this—this stifled life down here. What was the fellow doing in this part of the town? Had not Lady Bicknacre said he was living at Paddington? The Frenchman, booted and neat in buckskin breeches and a plain frockcoat, a flat-brimmed hat on his head, paused a moment at an intersection with one of the roads leading north, apparently seeking a street sign. The intoxicating sense of novelty had given place to a more business-like mood. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. ’ ‘Sport!’ grumbled her betrothed, but he accompanied them across the ballroom all the same. I am the cause of his ill-usage.
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