Manning relinquished his cup, and looked meaningly at Ann Veronica. “I am bored,” she said abruptly. She perceived that his countenance was only composed by a great effort, his features severely compressed. But from the first her rather old-fashioned conception of life had jarred with the suburban atmosphere, the High School spirit and the memories of the light and little Mrs. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. He ran back to his car, glancing only once at the man in the car.
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