As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard his own name pronounced, and found that it was a hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. Melusine glanced towards the elderly dame and found that sharp gaze directed upon her. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. Besides, this is an affair which no one but myself can settle. ” “What else,” Lady Lescelles murmured, “are men for?” Anna laughed. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl.
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