\" She whispered back. Her voice recalled him. Ants. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. ” She stood up and held her arms toward him. ‘You are the one that I have met in London. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. \" Lucy fought to resist the compulsion to 45 fold her arms over her chest. ” “Say that again, Lucy, so that the rest of them hear it. I make no apology for not being with you now. Do you think that I am utterly selfish?” She raised her eyebrows. “That’s the point. “I was glad you did not send it back again,” he said.
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