The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. “That’s HIM,” said Ann Veronica, in sound, idiomatic English. ‘You wish a reason for jealousy? Eh bien, you may have it. Forgive me if a certain warmth creeps into my words! The Park is green and gray to-day, but I am glowing pink and gold. At the same time she was wildly exultant at the resolution she had taken, the end she had made to her blunder. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. I know there’s a sort of right in your impatience at the slowness of Progress. “By Jove!” he broke out, “one tries to take a serious, sober view. I had no right to marry you.
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