“No I’m not, John. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. Earles closed the piano with a little bang. "Go!" said Lady Trafford; "it is my last request. Wood's famous 'prentice?" "What apprentice?" asked the stranger, in surprise. “It is too late for visitors,” she remarked. The reddish-haired young man contributed allusions to the Hegelian philosophy that momentarily confused the discussion. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. Critically, she stared at her own features. ‘Knew you had the lad with you, and thought you were merely delayed. ’ Lucilla let out a peal of laughter.
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