“What are your objections?” she said. She understood. She was the actress his whim had chosen to play a passive part. She saw his eyes glaze over. " "I am here in Canton," she replied, simply. This made the eleventh. She had always had a wonderful ear for phrasing, even back in the days of the viol. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. His clothes had evidently seen some service, and were plentifully begrimed with the dust of the workshop. In addition to the various business men, solicitors, civil servants, and widow ladies who lived in the Morningside Park Avenue, there was a certain family of alien sympathies and artistic quality, the Widgetts, with which Ann Veronica had become very friendly. If hopeless love for her made me a robber, it has also saved me many a crime.
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