“Just fine. “He fell over at my feet,” she continued. ” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. The young lady in the bureau said she would inquire, and Ann Veronica, while she affected to read the appeal on a hospital collecting-box upon the bureau counter, had a disagreeable sense of being surveyed from behind by a small, whiskered gentleman in a frock-coat, who came out of the inner office and into the hall among a number of equally observant green porters to look at her and her bags. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked. Marvel. It is I who am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband.
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