I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. There was a strained, eager expression on his face. Nobody knows what his real name is, but he's a Hollander. And God had let him do it! He was—and now he perfectly understood that he was—treading the queerest labyrinth a man had ever entered. "Mr. You come to England, and hide in a secret convent in London. Pull yourself together now. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. “I shall be very glad to have you for a friend,” he said, “loving friend.
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