“You had no right—” panted Ann Veronica. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. “Quite on my own,” she said. In fact, Gerald had given order to the coachman to drive out of Golden Square and then stop around the corner. ” He made to speak and did not. . ’ ‘For God’s sake, don’t accuse her of murder,’ begged Gerald, retrieving the lady’s hat and handing it to her, ‘or she’ll be challenging me to a duel again.
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