It happened that at the extremest point of Ann Veronica’s social circle from the Widgetts was the family of the Morningside Park horsedealer, a company of extremely dressy and hilarious young women, with one equestrian brother addicted to fancy waistcoats, cigars, and facial spots. She'll have this hour always with her; and you failed her. "Get from under it, Jack!" vociferated Thames. Perhaps she would have to charge this man and appear in a police-court next day. You must be misinformed, Mr. I have no intention of arresting you. There were moments when Ann Veronica rather more than suspected the chief speakers to be, as school-boys say, showing off at her. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. “You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. “Lighten up. "This locket," he said, taking a little ornament attached to a black ribband from his breast, and giving it her,—"do you remember it?" "I do—I do!" cried Winifred.
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