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He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. “If I didn’t love you better than myself,” said Capes, “I wouldn’t fence like this with you. Promise me. The day is already half over. Kneebone said, just now. She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had happened. But this is a great lark, Ann Veronica! This turns life into a glorious adventure!” “Ah!” she cried in triumph. ” “Blood of my heart!” whispered Capes, holding her close to him. If he had nothing to tell her, she had nothing to ask. They WERE, she realized, acutely beautiful things. "I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. "At the Black Lion in our street," replied Jack, without hesitation. One learns to sit up. That is easy.
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