There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. . "That we were afraid," replied the other; "but never mind her. “I’m sorry. ” She shook her fist ceilingward. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write. ’ ‘I like that,’ Gerald protested. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. ‘You see, it is that I have a plan to marry an Englishman.
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