Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. She listened, her suspicions confirmed. You're easy to please. She wanted his attention, but so did everyone else. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. ‘She didn’t behave in the least like an émigré, if these people are anything to go by. His tone changed, becoming a little more moderate. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. It distressed and confused her that the girl should not come to her. “I would rather put up with your own efforts, however clumsy.
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