“But, my dear!” said Ann Veronica’s aunt. "Hands off!" she exclaimed, "or you'll repent it. It is the horse of the priest, you understand, and—and he does not know that I have borrowed it. “I wish he had,” she said. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. " Silence. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. A small handgun bobbed at the end of it, aimed at Sheila.
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