What he needed most in this hour was a bottle of American rye-whisky and a friendly American bar-keep to talk to. “You’re self-taught, aren’t you, Lucy?” She looked around the table, all eyes upon her. “Why on earth,” he asked, “did you hurt me like that?” Ann Veronica did her best to think she had not deliberately attempted to cause him pain. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. I’m sorry I ruined dinner. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. The telegram dispatched, his obligation cancelled, Ah Cum proceeded homeward, chuckling occasionally.
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