’ Grudgingly, the sergeant shifted aside and allowed her access to the stairs, grumbling to her retreating back, ‘If I’d me way, missie, I’d send you back to France where you ought never to have come away from, if you arst me. ‘Not yet, madame. One or the other. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. It’s a thing I’ve unaccountably overlooked. Until at last I persuaded him to go to bed. ” “Excellent,” Sir John declared. Ann Veronica was overcome by this amount of emotion. Indeed, he told me nothing at all. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. No offence, I hope.
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