" "Hoddy," she repeated. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. Then Manning flopped back in his chair and dropped his chin like a man shot. ’ ‘Dunderhead. You shall have your reward. Who’s for a rubber of whist?” Ennison made so many mistakes that he was glad to cut out early in the evening. “What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. ” “Yes. At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this.
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