"You're a fine specimen! Why you're actually lantern-jawed with fright.

But I don't care! Come on; we're expected to tea! Get into your white flannels and pretty blue coat and put on your dinkey rah-rah, and follow me.

Or, by heaven!--I'll do murder right now!" Ogilvy's knees wavered as they entered the gateway.
"Go on!" hissed Annan, giving him a violent shove.
Then, to Ogilvy, came that desperate and hysterical courage that comes to those whose terrors have at last infuriated them.
"By jinks!" he said with an unearthly smile, "I _will_ come on!" And he did, straight through the door and into the pretty living room where Helene d'Enver rose in some slight consternation to receive this astonishingly pale and rather desperate-faced young man.
"Harry," said Ogilvy, calmly retaining Helene's hand, "you go and play around the yard for a few moments.

I have something to tell the Countess d'Enver; and then we'll all have tea." "Mr.Ogilvy!" she said, amazed.
But Annan had already vanished; and she looked into a pair of steady eyes that suddenly made her quail.
"Helene," he said, "I really do love you." [Illustration: "'I am scared blue.

That's why I'm holding on to your hand so desperately.'"] "Please--" "No! I love you! Are you going to let me ?" "I--how on earth--what a perfectly senseless--" "I know it.