And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. I don’t know what has come over me. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. Loneliness—something that was almost physical: as if the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. Ann Veronica, who knew her dress became her, dropped a curtsy to her father’s regard. The next moment he was by her side.
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