" "I should like to satisfy myself on that score," rejoined Wild, drily. The little old lady struck like a projectile upon the resounding chest of the foremost of these, and then Ann Veronica had got past and was ascending the steps. Soup would help you feel better, soup and hot tea. " He shook his head. It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. ” They entered the place, a pleasant little café of the sort to be met with in the outlying parts of Paris. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. “I love this warm end of summer more than words can tell,” he said. CHAPTER XIX.
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