She did not hear his approach, but continued her occupation without raising her head. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. “It was inevitable,” he declared. ‘Too late by the time I realised to what a dunderhead I’d pledged my friendship. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. “I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. ” “Now look here, Ann Veronica,” said Mr.
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