Ann Veronica, with a sigh at the cost of hospitality, made a hasty negotiation for an extra tea and for a fire in the groundfloor apartment, and preened herself carefully for the interview. Arrived within a short distance of his destination, he came to a halt, and pointing out a dark court nearly opposite the woollen-draper's abode, told the chairmen to wait there till they were summoned. Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. From the sounds of it, he was better off dead. He had come to Anna’s rooms from a dinner party, and he was in evening dress. She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin.
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