She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. Ann Veronica hesitated with a question that had leaped up in her mind, and that she felt was cruel. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. Well, I was all for dragging in Bow Street there and then, and getting the pair of those fraudsters thrown in gaol. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. Her answer was not quite ready. We have played at a little mild lovemaking again. Can you come over?” “I think so.
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