He turned back at once. Out of the beaten track! He must not appear too eager. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. Once a week, every Saturday, they had a little gathering from nine till the small hours, just talk and perhaps reading aloud and fruitarian refreshments—chestnut sandwiches buttered with nut tose, and so forth—and lemonade and unfermented wine; and to one of these symposia Miss Miniver after a good deal of preliminary solicitude, conducted Ann Veronica. “I am under police surveillance,” she said. . . " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold.
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