. When she got back to her questions again in the monotonous high-road that led up the hill, she found the image of Mr. Ho-hum! CHAPTER IX The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. ” “Yes, but men;” said Ann Veronica, plunging; “don’t you want the love of men?” For some seconds they remained silent, both shocked by this question. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. She could see that she was now the exclusive object of the boy’s attention. He saluted awkwardly. ‘You have the means to take up your rightful place. We want it badly at the present time. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly.
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