"Poor creature!" ejaculated Wood. He grew more ardent, sliding her breasts out of the strapless bodice of her gown. Though the starling was more than two feet above the level of the water, he alighted with his little charge—which he had never for an instant quitted—in safety upon it. It happened that at the extremest point of Ann Veronica’s social circle from the Widgetts was the family of the Morningside Park horsedealer, a company of extremely dressy and hilarious young women, with one equestrian brother addicted to fancy waistcoats, cigars, and facial spots. That dress! Only a man—and an unworldly one—would have permitted you to proceed on your adventure dressed in a gown thirty years out of date. She had neither the semi-boisterousness of the average American girl nor the chilling insolence of the English. " "Poh, poh, my dear! Mr.
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