"Good bye!" cried Jack, as if taking leave of his mistresses, "to-morrow, at the same time. ’ ‘Lucilla,’ gasped Hilary, his cheeks reddening with wrath. “I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. It’s one of our conventional superstitions. “Now, Veronica,” he pleaded, “Veronica, this is most unreasonable. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing.
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