” “But how?” “I poured him out some port wine, and I said—let me see—oh, ‘You are going to be a grandfather!’” “Yes. . You are—horrible. . I didn’t get it, why she put on the innocent act. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. ” “But is that really so?” said Ann Veronica. She lay and nibbled at a sprig of dwarf rhododendron. She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them. He cannot.
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