“There are some people,” he said at last, “who seem fated to carry on their shoulders the burdens of other people. ’ ‘Yes, a pretty theory, Lucy,’ Gerald said evenly, ‘but for one thing. “But, how,” he said, sitting up astonished beyond measure, “not go on?” “I have been thinking while you have been talking. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. Then she sang. Tell me how are you amusing yourself?” Anna laughed. It was horrible. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. The Morning Post was hungry for governesses and nursery governesses, but held out no other hopes; the Daily Telegraph that morning seemed eager only for skirt hands.
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