"Never throw away a chance," thought Jonathan. The intoxicating sense of novelty had given place to a more business-like mood. Mr. Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire. Angelina's distress over these mischances was pathetic. Now drop it. Her patience was waning fast. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. "You are angry?" "Very. They did not spend most days together. “It’s Ennison, isn’t it?” he exclaimed. ” “But how? It has only been a few days!” “She’s not even here. ‘And you come to me, thinking yourself half French, and expect me to take you in.
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