He loved Ann Veronica, he said; he was so mad to have her that he defeated himself, and did crude and alarming and senseless things. I do not care, but only that you will leave my affairs to me. Wood scarcely knew where he was. I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots. The latter no sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an adjoining room. ” “What is it that I should plan for in life?” “Life itself is glorious enough. 175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you.
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