“My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. An ordinary type, of course—” Mrs. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. If Ann Veronica could have put words to that song they would have been, “Hot-blooded marriage or none!” but she was far too indistinct in this matter to frame any words at all. I suppose that shocks one’s ideas. Mark yourself as a charitable man and you’ll be rewarded here and in Heaven. He was tender with her as he had not been in years. They talked across their meal in an easy and friendly manner about Ann Veronica’s affairs.
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