The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. . He was now within a foot of the bar, and introducing himself into the hole, speedily worked his way to it. Good night. " "You don't say so!" exclaimed Shotbolt. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her.
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