The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. Why ever did you let me get into that wagonette?” “I thought we had to,” said Ann Veronica, who had also been a little under the compulsion of the marshals of the occasion. Hadn’t the stomach to admit the truth, had he? I’ll lay any money he labelled you with some foul French name as well. A hand of iron fell upon the scowling young man’s shoulder. “We have no airs and graces here, and my hat hangs from a peg in the passage.
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