Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. He walked out into the Champs Elysées and sat down. He glanced up at the coachman. ” She gestured to an abandoned farmhouse down a long stretch of icy dirt road. CHAPTER IX. Do you mean to tell me you didn’t understand why I wanted you to come here?” “Not a bit of it,” said Ann Veronica stoutly. More than ever Sir John was glad that he had sat down. He was bewildered. After a series of mental gymnastics—occupying the space of a few seconds—it came to him with a shock that here was a new specimen of the species.
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