It was Celeste’s idea. She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. Ann Veronica woke rather later than usual, and lay awake for some minutes before she remembered a certain resolution she had taken in the small hours. “I want to speak to you. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. ” “Couldn’t I make a treaty?” Ann Veronica thought, and could not see any possible treaty that would leave it open for her to have quasi-surreptitious dinners with Ramage or go on walking round the London squares discussing Socialism with Miss Miniver toward the small hours. You foolish girl!” Ann Veronica took that in silence. “Then we must try and make London endurable for you,” he remarked cheerfully. He waited.
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