He gave you a poison. "Well, my dear, I've a proposal to make in regard to this babby of yours, which may, or may not, be agreeable. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites. “Please don’t be sad. Section 2. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. 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.
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