" CHAPTER XIII. Mama will be expecting me. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. “Why not? It might amuse me. This is a joke of yours. “I thought every one had heard,” said Miss Klegg. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar.
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