Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding. So far she had not heard the sound of his voice. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. What is it that you wish from me? You would like to arrest me for spying? Very well, arrest me. To-morrow I am going to Paris. I do not command the services of a person who will not tell me why he offers them. " "But I never told you how the natives fished. "The devil you have! Then, perhaps, you can tell me when he intends to put his threat into execution?" "What threat?" asked Jackson.
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