"Enough!" cried Jonathan, eagerly pocketing the memorandum. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection. "God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII. Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow. ‘What do you think?’ ‘What do I think?’ repeated Captain Roding. He caught the elderly dame’s eye, throwing her a desperate message. “Of course!” he said. “And now,” said Ann Veronica surveying her apartment with an unprecedented sense of proprietorship, “what is the next step?” She spent the evening in writing—it was a little difficult—to her father and— which was easier—to the Widgetts.
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