It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. He had been ill; no matter about that: he recollected every thought that had led up to it and every act that had consummated the deed. ’ ‘Grossly unfair, too. “Why could you not confide in us?” “Do what?” said Ann Veronica. Lucy was silent. See? Nothing really. It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners. Presently she woke up to the fact that there was a considerable group of interests called being in love and getting married, with certain attractive and amusing subsidiary developments, such as flirtation and “being interested” in people of the opposite sex. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet. “I love you, Anna, and I want you for my wife. I am a physician first, which gives the man in me a secondary part. ’ Melusine stifled a giggle. CHAPTER VIII.
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