Had to. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. There we were discussing whether you should have a vote, and I remembered the last occasion we met it was about your prospects of success in the medical profession or as a Government official such as a number of women now are, and all the time my heart was crying out within me, ‘Here is the Queen of your career. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. The other bona roba, known amongst her companions as Mistress Poll Maggot, was a beauty on a much larger scale,—in fact, a perfect Amazon. ’ ‘And I love the way you call me imbecile,’ finished Gerald. You are afraid—that here in London—I shall not be a success. “We have,” he said, “to be the utmost friends.
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