“I want you to kiss me,” she said. She backed away from him. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. Don’t you think? Tum, tay, tum, tay. “You can count upon me, Nigel,” she said. ’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it. They had asked her to come to the first of the two great annual Fadden Dances, the October one, and Ann Veronica had accepted with enthusiasm. Concealed among the trees that edged the estate grounds, the watchers paused. They are not bad girls, but the average tourist has that misconception of them. " "I hear," said Sir Rowland, moodily. But you belong to me—and I want you. You are somebody’s secretary, are you not?” It was plain that the subject was distasteful to her, but Ennison, although famous in a small way for his social tact, did not at once discard it.
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