“Hotel Ritz!” Chapter XXXI ANNA’S TEA PARTY “I suppose you haven’t the least idea who I am,” Lady Lescelles said, as she settled herself in Anna’s most comfortable chair. A young man turned to pay the cabman. She could feel Martin’s eyes boring into her as she entered the room, her own personal Farhat. An Englishwoman. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. ” “It’s too far for the ball to reach us,” said Miss Klegg. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside. ” Annabel, who was looking very well, and who was most becomingly dressed, moved to a seat from which she could command a view of the road outside. Their minds are turned against him. “Katy Pfister. Ann Veronica took off her jacket and sat down in the corner chair, and leaned forward to look into the great hazy warm brown cavity of the house, and Ramage placed his chair to sit beside her and near her, facing the stage.
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