“But I don’t see,” said Ann Veronica, “just how it fits the present situation. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. He had meant to be master of his fate that evening and it had escaped him altogether. “I am afraid,” he said to Anna afterwards, “that it was a mistake to order the champagne sec. As she stared her eyes grew accustomed to the night; and she discovered five persons instead of four. He feared to antagonize that distinguished person. For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. What do you think people will make of that? What will this lover of yours make of that?” At intervals Ann Veronica demanded to go, declaring her undying resolve to repay him at any cost, and made short movements doorward. Give him his medicine every half hour.
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