” “Poor old ring!” said Ann Veronica. " "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up. ‘Troops?’ ‘Go, man,’ urged the major in an undervoice. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. But, I'll expose him. ” Annabel looked intently into her glass. The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. At the same time she was wildly exultant at the resolution she had taken, the end she had made to her blunder.
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