” “How?” “Well—a little clumsily. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. ‘Alors, pig!’ she cried and lunged in quarte.
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