Ann Veronica looked up at him and found him regarding her with eyes that were almost woebegone, and into which, indeed, he was trying to throw much more expression than they could carry. Then I assumed a rather portentous manner to prepare him. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. Ann Veronica was one of the few young people—and one must have young people just as one must have flowers—one could ask to a little gathering without the risk of a painful discord. Very soon she would be able to forget it. Abruptly, Gerald turned. Stow it in the saddle, for I will take it with me.
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