“It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. ’ Gerald sighed. So that the thought of Ann Veronica up-stairs had been extremely painful for her through all the silent dinner-time that night. Beyond that everything was nebulous. En tout cas, why had he not returned? She pondered the question as, later, she paced about her favourite retreat. He knocked at the door. Sheppard, which she gratefully declined. . ” “Of course you don’t,” said Miss Miniver, gesticulating triumphantly with her thin hand and thinner wrist, and patting Ann Veronica’s knee. ” “It’s very kind of you—” began Ann Veronica. She could not risk going in the door, lest she run into Larry or Cathy drinking a nocturnal glass of milk or Mike raiding the refrigerator for snacks. Annabel, I was lying.
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