CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. "Here's one of the thieves, Sir Rowland!" cried the attendant. Ann Veronica was not ready enough to deal with that counter-stroke. Drive away the cat; throw that measure of gin through the window; and tell me why you've not so much as touched the packing-case for Lady Trafford, which I particularly desired you to complete against my return. " "Pray, let me have a pinch!" said Edgeworth Bess, with a captivating glance. She had a better voice than I, and the rest I suppose is only a trick.
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