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The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. ‘Can’t see a thing. . ‘Do not think—’ he panted, ‘that I am finished—with you, mademoiselle. ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. “What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly. Deny me, if you please. “Hotel Ritz!” Chapter XXXI ANNA’S TEA PARTY “I suppose you haven’t the least idea who I am,” Lady Lescelles said, as she settled herself in Anna’s most comfortable chair.
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