” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. “I really owe him something of an apology. 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. And to think that man got it all out of the poorest little love-story for a respectable titled lady! Have you read of it?” “Never. Ludicrously loud sounds streamed from the array of speakers. People spoke of him everywhere as a young man of great promise, a politician by instinct, a keen and careful judge of character. ‘Very wise,’ he commented, slightly relaxing his arm. He won’t be in uniform. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss.
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