"It only leads to the fencing crib," replied Wild. If you had arrived ten minutes later, or if there hadn't been an iron bar in the chimney, that hindered my progress, I should have been beyond your reach. Ann Veronica listened thoughtfully, with her eyes on the turf, and now and then she asked a question or looked up to discuss a point. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion. The streets were full of colour. Meanwhile, she was spirited away from John and bombarded by half-familiar people who attempted to chat with her above the roar of the crowd. No doubt there’s some little mistake. .
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