An ordinary type, of course—” Mrs. She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother. The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. We were worried. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. It ought never to have begun. I don’t care.
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