" "By no means," rejoined Wood, hastily. . "Who—who is the Marquis de Chatillon?" "Your adopted son, Thames Darrell," answered Winifred. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. Neither father, aunt, nor brothers made a sign, and then one afternoon in early February her aunt came up in a state between expostulation and dignified resentment, but obviously very anxious for Ann Veronica’s welfare. Wear one on the stage on the following day. It was not a hopeful looking group.
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