"I told you I would call to bid you farewell, Mr. “Tell your sister she was right to shoot, quite right. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. “And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather. “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. For a pity, she has chosen to remain, and it has been her death. Hitherto, no visiters had been permitted to see him. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady.
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