Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. Ann Veronica sat down in the other arm-chair and darned badly for a minute or so. What had she so nearly said? She had almost spoken a name—and quickly withdrawn it. "I told you I would call to bid you farewell, Mr. It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance. He seized a tray, squatted on the floor, and imitated the tom-tom. You were wide the mark, physically; otherwise you had him pat. Love!” He held her arm and abandoned it again at her quick defensive movement.
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