They don’t count, and I don’t care. Ennison,” she exclaimed, “is that really you?” There was no sign of embarrassment in her manner. The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand resting lightly on her waist. "Now, Sir, I'll trouble you for your coat. Beyond that everything was nebulous. “Forty guineas a week.
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