CHAPTER XXVIII. It was a fetching gown that stretched tightly in a cream colored swath over her breasts and expanded to a full skirt with a petticoat. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. He agreed it was disgraceful. Wood grasped his companion's arm to attract his attention to this unexpected means of escape.
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