” “I suppose all men,” said Ann Veronica, in a tone of detached criticism, “get some such entanglement. ‘Moreover, no one will believe any more that Yolande is me when they see this. The leg and wing of a duck were disposed of by this gentleman in a twinkling; a brace of pigeons and a pound of steak followed with equal celerity; and he had just begun to make a fierce assault upon the eggs and ham. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. From suburbs, from country towns—everywhere.
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