” “I don’t mind knowing,” said Ann Veronica. She turned quickly. ” She said wistfully. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. Wood. I have taken bullets and lived, and even a silver one wouldn’t do much. You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied. They will be safe. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips.
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