” “But Hainault—was—a pal. He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. At least one of them was caught and put away. ’ ‘That is silly. “One genius in the family is enough. I wonder——” He turned slowly round. It was time to leave America. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll.
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