"I am not, by Heaven!" replied Sheppard, firmly. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House. My proposition is for you to keep an eye on him, and the moment he puts on his clothes to send me a telegram, care of the HongKong Hotel. Gone off, cool as you please, and left me to manage everything. “—but this cannot be.
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