“It is part of the irony of life,” he said. “In five minutes I shall be ready. " O'Higgins extracted a cigar from a pocket and inspected it. Before midnight, your nephew shall be safe beneath the hatches of the Zeeslang. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. "A little, Sir," replied the executioner, with a grim smile. "Auntie?" he cried. This way, my dear—and— you’ll excuse my mentioning it, but a quiet blouse and a little chiffon, you know, will be quite sufficient. So kind, so good to me always. Only you won’t let me exist!” Mr. ‘I’m a soldier, missie.
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