Mr. ‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. Mr. ” “Well, Ann Veronica Smith,” the magistrate remarked when the case was all before him, “you’re a good-looking, strong, respectable gell, and it’s a pity you silly young wimmin can’t find something better to do with your exuberance. ’ ‘Sir!’ came from Trodger, and the booted feet clattered off and out of the front door. The next weekend arrived and she made her decision. His glance came up again and met hers. I put my foot down like—like adamant. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. Never had he been so intrigued. Ann Veronica looked up at him and found him regarding her with eyes that were almost woebegone, and into which, indeed, he was trying to throw much more expression than they could carry.
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