” “Lady Ferringhall—alone?” Ennison exclaimed. You might even tire of me by then, you know. ” A man who had been sitting with his hat tilted over his eyes at an adjacent table had risen to his feet and stood suddenly before them. “By Jove!” he broke out, “one tries to take a serious, sober view. “The wrappered life-discipline! One comes to that at last. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. Lose not a moment, Hobson.
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