In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this. ’ ‘A French ghost?’ ‘Well, it ain’t a rat this time, Major, I can promise you that,’ Pottiswick had rejoined, his tone affronted. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. “The Vote is the symbol of everything,” said Miss Brett. The theme was a masquerade. "But you mustn't indulge these gloomy thoughts. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. ” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day.
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