Then abruptly Mr. Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire. Later, she understood his reasons; and it had now become habit. Jackson, gallantly. “You’ve got my view,” he said, after a pensive second. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. It brought no coconut. But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. But one thing troubled him, and because of it he might never arrive on the beach.
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