The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. ” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened. Later, when they returned home, she would serve as the topic of many conversations. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. Montague Hill was taken for the millionaire once or twice, and I suppose it flattered his vanity. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. . But if we had gone under—!” They regarded one another silently, and Ann Veronica had one of her penetrating flashes. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. "If I were so, I should not be here," returned Trenchard. ’ ‘Yes, but what is it, Jacques?’ demanded the lady.
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