" Thames was about to reply, but a glance from Wood checked him. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. Under the somewhat trying incandescent light her cheeks pleaded guilty to a recent use of the powder puff. Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack, you are my prisoner. I will not be sent away. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke.
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