The man muttered something inaudible, and gathered up the reins. Ann Veronica pushed aside a tea-cup and the vestiges of her strawberries and cream, and put her elbows before her on the table. ‘You wish to tell me something? Parbleu, I have nearly forgot once more. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. The pistol, it was not loaded. You would not have the slightest difficulty. A sophisticated woman would have translated the tone as a caress. . His hat was placed upon one pole, his wig on another. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible. .
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