She had never seen so much food in her life as she saw at her own wedding feast. Sheppard. She had denied it with vigor, and here she was! She did not so much exhaust this general question as pass from it to her insoluble individual problem again: “What am I to do?” She wanted first of all to fling the forty pounds back into Ramage’s face. She had never been able to discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. ” Anna nodded and turned again to Courtlaw.
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