It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. Wood, by whom it was formerly occupied. “You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that. It comes to this—am I to be trusted to take care of myself, or am I not?” “To judge from this proposal of yours, I should say not. ” Miss Stanley rose and regarded Ann Veronica fixedly. And the Duke, too—I heard him say that a married secretary would be worse than useless to him. ” Mr.
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