' So I go to Patagonia. ” Capes waited patiently. “I say!” he said, without any movement. Tell me a story—with apple-blossoms in it—about people who are happy. ’ She moved quickly to the nearest bookcase, and listened intently to the sound of Jack’s voice. I do not choose the vicomte, for that would be foolish. But there was nothing in her bearing that a passer-by would have noted, to tell of the excitement that possessed her. She had seen her really only at teas, with the Stanley strain in her uppermost. ’ ‘So I infer.
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