CHAPTER XII. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. “It was inevitable,” he declared. " And she burst into a wild hysterical laugh. They are our food, Lucia, nothing more. She flew up from her stool and faced the door. He lifted her from the floor. He bore it as long as he could, watching all the time with fascinated eyes Annabel moving gracefully about amongst her guests, always gay, with a smile and a whisper for nearly everybody. Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. Things got hot and heavy in the car the next night, and he peeled off her skirt and top to reveal her underwear. ‘Now,’ she said, in an imperious manner that so much reminded him of Melusine that he was obliged to suppress a grin, ‘I can see you properly. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood.
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