” He pronounced this with an air of profound conviction and with his eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. Whence had she come: whither was she bound? A temporary congestion in the street held up the caravan for a spell; and Ah Cum looked backward to note if any of the party had become separated. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy. Where the stuff came from was always a mystery. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces. ’ Melusine hesitated. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. Few approached the émigrés directly, preferring to stare covertly from behind their fans, while pretending to admire the simple elegance of Lady Bicknacre’s neo-classical refurbishments.
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