” “Nobody does that,” said Ramage, and kept silence for a moment. “If only Sir John were not Sir John I would ask you to come and have some supper. You are not playing to-night, are you?” “Not to-night,” she answered. ‘Moi, je vais vous tuer!’ ‘I don’t think so,’ Gerald said through his teeth. Remote little Ann Veronica! She would never know the heart of that child again! That child had loved fairy princes with velvet suits and golden locks, and she was in love with a real man named Capes, with little gleams of gold on his cheek and a pleasant voice and firm and shapely hands. It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side. Or felt it.
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