” She shook her head. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. Why ain’t you gorn? Seems to me I had ought to arrest you. ” Ann Veronica closed the door quite softly and stood still. Stir a foot, and I strike. “If you interfere between us,” the man said, “it will go hardly with you. Then he put the paper by. ’ ‘Yes, a pretty theory, Lucy,’ Gerald said evenly, ‘but for one thing.
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