White looked mysteriously about the room as though to be sure that no one was listening. How did you like Tristan?” Ann Veronica paused the fraction of a second before her reply came. That last year in Paris, when Annabel and she had lived in different worlds, had often been a nightmare to her. If not, I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards. Vite, I pray you. He had sold half a dozen short tales to thirdrate magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished editorial room, of international reputation. To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat.
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