” “I can’t be portentous, dear, when you’re about. Ann Veronica looked bright and a little elated, and she disregarded her father’s invitation to be seated. We are expecting a visit from Sir John Ferringhall at any moment. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. His little doll. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. Very slowly emerging out of a phase of stupefaction, these personal affairs and her personal problem resumed possession of her mind. . Was it a week ago? No, perhaps more. I only want to know the truth, and I will move heaven and earth to have it set aside. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her.
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