She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. Together they crept through the erstwhile drawing room and entered the massive flagged hall. . It was she—— Anna’s nerves were not easily shaken, but she found herself suddenly clutching at the table for support. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. Her complexion had resisted the snow-glare wonderfully; her skin had only deepened its natural warmth a little under the Alpine sun. “Ever yours, “ANNABEL.
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