Breakfast was laid for one, a dish of fruit and a shining coffee equipage. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. "I have him!" cried a voice in triumph. The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. At least for one moment, it was. “I don’t see quite what your game is, Vee, but I suppose you’ve got a game on somewhere. It is perfectly intrusive of me, and I quite see that you must be sick to death of running into such an interfering busybody all the time.
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