"It is droll," he said. Miss Stanley, it was manifest, had given him Ann Veronica’s address. His aunt, here at McClintock's? It was unbelievable. An uncomfortable silence followed. CHAPTER I. “I did,” Anna answered. I—well, I lost my temper. At last in a street near the Hampstead Road she hit upon a room that had an exceptional quality of space and order, and a tall woman with a kindly face to show it. All along the wooden benches before it sat a profusion of soldiery, a collection of barbers in attendance, busily employed in replaiting and powdering their hair ready for a military review scheduled for this afternoon. Most of them didn’t, anyhow.
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