“Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. Sometimes I tremble, Anna, to think how near I came to passing through life without a single glimpse, a moment’s revelation of this greatest and most awful of mysteries, the mystery of primaeval nature. They had not to tarry long. “Very well,” said her father. ” “Now look here, Ann Veronica,” said Mr. Flowers, theatre boxes, carriages, the “open sesame” to the whole world of pleasure. “No one asks you to care for them. ’ ‘The tables, they are turned, I think,’ she returned.
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