I had left Paris. . ’ ‘You are perfectly correct,’ agreed Gerald at once. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. The unknown, previously so attractive, now presented another face—blank. There he stands. 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. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. The wounded man had descended the bridge, and dashed himself against the door beyond it; but, finding it impossible to force his way further, he turned to confront his assailants.
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