“That he should be in the same world with me!” said Ann Veronica, reduced to reading the list of good things the British Tea-Table Company had priced for its patrons. “In five minutes I shall be ready. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. She is English! I am sure of that. ” “No, it’s just a surprise. She wondered why he was so distinctive, so unlike other men, and it never occurred to her for some time that this might be because she was falling in love with him. Dump popped his head into the cage. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. ” “But why is one face beautiful and another not?” objected Ann Veronica; “on your theory any two faces side by side in the sunlight ought to be equally beautiful. I dare say it will be chattered about for weeks. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. She was slender, and sometimes she seemed tall, and walked and carried herself lightly and joyfully as one who commonly and habitually feels well, and sometimes she stooped a little and was preoccupied. She calls him a pig, and she says he ain’t Valade.
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