Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. CHAPTER V. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. But when he looked again, there she was! "I don't understand," he said, finally. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. She felt her forehead repeatedly break out in a light sweat.
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