"I have a token to deliver to you," continued the stranger, addressing her. I had that coming. Don't feel fussed upon my account. ” Ann Veronica said nothing in answer to that. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. ” “Couldn’t I make a treaty?” Ann Veronica thought, and could not see any possible treaty that would leave it open for her to have quasi-surreptitious dinners with Ramage or go on walking round the London squares discussing Socialism with Miss Miniver toward the small hours.
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