He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. “And then?” said Ann Veronica. . “I hope you have not come for that. But it was very hard to follow. But the vicomte has said that his sister may remain, but that the daughter must go. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. “Anna,” she moaned, “I am a jealous, ungrateful woman. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. From under his pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. Something in his tone pinched her heart. Wild," he added, laughing, "it must be a stronger prison than Willesden cage that can hold me.
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