Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. ‘She has constituted herself leader of the émigrés here, and feels justifiably slighted by having taken the pretend Valades under her wing. I don’t think we’re altogether to blame if we don’t take some of your lot seriously. Gods! what it must be to pour out strong, splendid verse—mighty lines! mighty lines! If I do, Ann Veronica, it will be you. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. A moment before, the surface of the stream was black as ink.
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