” “And I,” Brendon said, humbly, “although I am afraid there is no chance for me, my errand was the same. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. . . Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. It was a bogus affair altogether, kept by some blackguard or other of an Englishman. ” “I forgive you willingly,” Anna said, bending over him. She is a fortune-teller and a vessel for man’s pleasure.
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