The party resolved itself for Ann Veronica into a game in which she manoeuvred unostentatiously and finally unsuccessfully to avoid talking alone with this gentleman. Part 4 MY DEAR VEE, he wrote. "Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it is—" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified. To tell someone who is kind and who will understand!" "There, there!" he said. ‘I do not know of whom you speak. Besides, there are greater rascals than Jack Sheppard at liberty, Sir Rowland. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping.
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