‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. “I say, Vee. Before midnight, I'll answer for it, it shall be done. The girl in the forward chair raised herself a little, the better to see the gorgeous blue palanquin of the dimly visible bride. “What’s odd?” “Oh, everything!” She shivered, and went to the fire and poked it. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream.
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