The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly, and said, in a deep, arch voice: “Talking of love again; spring again, love again. "Mrs. Ah Cum had no business taking him into the city last night. He rang the doorbell, even though she had already cracked the door for him. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. ‘There were the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. You understand that term?” Ann Veronica smiled faintly. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room.
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