” “Won’t you postpone the attempt, then?” he said gallantly, “until I have done something to deserve your gratitude? You will not forget—seven-thirty, Café Maston, Boulevard des Italiennes. But I can easily bring in a sing-song girl to play for you. There are two ways to go in, you understand. Your adoptive father understands mankind better. ” She glared at him balefully. For a time Ann Veronica went on her way gauging the quality of sordid streets. As they neared the house, Jack Sheppard, who led the way, halted and addressed his companion in a low voice:— "I don't half like this job, Blueskin," he said; "it always went against the grain. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. “Friendships that are all very well between school-girls don’t always go on into later life. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly.
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