Jack had got into one of the pens at the north side of the chapel. From the centre of the ceiling hung a replica of the temple lamp in the Taj Mahal. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. Capes stood side by side upon an old Persian carpet that did duty as a hearthrug in the dining-room of their flat and surveyed a shining dinner-table set for four people, lit by skilfully-shaded electric lights, brightened by frequent gleams of silver, and carefully and simply adorned with sweet-pea blossom. You've got me interested and curious. “You delicate female!” “Who cares,” said Ann Veronica, “seeing it’s you? Warm, soft little wonders! Of course I want them.
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