“There is some mystery about you both,” he exclaimed, with sudden earnestness. Nothing else matters. Ann Veronica became violently excited at the sight. “You’ve got to take the decent reasonable way. And, mind! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will satisfy me. ” A fair-haired young Englishman looked up from the depths of his easy chair. John. He went on. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. “I have come for an explanation,” she said.
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