She handled it half fearfully, and set it carefully down again. ” “It isn’t that you’re splendid or I,” said Capes. But he seized the chance to entrap her fingers, fan and all, and look deeply into her eyes. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. “It was perhaps my fault. You are not playing to-night, are you?” “Not to-night,” she answered. ” “Tell me about yourself,” said Ann Veronica. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. I am sorry that I do not know any one in London.
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