“And what is it all about, Veronica?” he asked, with a deliberate note of irony, looking at her a little quizzically over his glasses. " "I tell 'ee what, landlord," observed the old sailor, quietly replenishing his pipe from a huge pewter tobacco-box, as the waterman and Wood quitted the house, "you've said good-b'ye to your friend. Mrs. "Sir Rowland, I salute you as your nephew. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be his restrained and dignified friend. You can if you will. His voice now had lost its ironies.
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