It was so romantic." The Colonel grunted.
"More rheumatic than romantic I should have thought.

Better have a glass of grog." Nan screwed up her bright face with a laugh.
"Heaven forbid, dad! And on a night like this.

Oh, bother! Is that a letter for me ?" Colonel Everard was pointing to an envelope on the mantelpiece.

She crossed the hall without eagerness, and picked it up.
"I've had one, too," said the Colonel, after a brief pause, speaking with a jerk as if the words insisted upon being uttered in spite of him.
"You!" Nan paused with one finger already inserted in the flap.

"What for ?" Her father was staring steadily at the end of his cigar, or he might have seen a hint of panic in her dark eyes.
"You will see for yourself," he said, still in that uncomfortable, jerky style.