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Ed. Anna leaned over so that he needed only to whisper. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon. ‘You are a born rebel, ma’am, and I can see now where she gets it from. I had gone further than I meant to—with some Englishmen. There was a discreet knocking at the door, and Ramage’s face changed. ‘I am not French in the least, bête.
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