‘Because I’m a female,’ declared Lucilla unanswerably. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. After several vain attempts to burst it open, he resolved, as a last alternative, to break through the wall in the part nearest to the lock. F. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. “Now step aside, I have some business to attend to. “I’m not the Devil. ” Her thoughts went into solution for a time, while she listened to a lark singing.
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