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" Neither man spoke. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. But there is need for the proof that I am me, and that is what I look for. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. Lives by his wits and gambling. Smiling, the Chinaman gave the correct pronunciation. The dinner was stranger than she had ever anticipated.
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