CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. I picked up her handkerchief on the floor. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. And you know all about that shot. Ann Veronica found herself in a little stirring crowd of excited women, whispering and tittering and speaking in undertones. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London. "That's scarcely a fair question, Mr.
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