Madame shrugged. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. She was introduced, perhaps a little too obviously for her taste, as a girl who was standing out against her people, to a gathering that consisted of a very old lady with an extremely wrinkled skin and a deep voice who was wearing what appeared to Ann Veronica’s inexperienced eye to be an antimacassar upon her head, a shy, blond young man with a narrow forehead and glasses, two undistinguished women in plain skirts and blouses, and a middle-aged couple, very fat and alike in black, Mr. Ramage did not know. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals. ” She smiled. ” “But Italy—” “Italy’s for a good girl,” he said, and laid his hand for a moment on her shoulder. I had no idea. “I’ve got nothing in the world to pack with except a toy size portmanteau. So I packed up and came to London next day. The Flash Ken. "Go!" said Lady Trafford; "it is my last request.
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