“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. Howard Taber. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. Wood gave the required promise, though he could not help thinking that if either of them had cause to be jealous he was the party. I was not even sure whether it was loaded. “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. My last foster father in Alabama before the Becks was a heavy drug abuser.
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