To-night all London believes that he was your husband. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. Absolutely. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. So do please believe that in this matter I am acting for the best. She didn’t choose her man. “They told me D,” said Ann Veronica.
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