The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. ‘You see,’ he pursued blandly, ‘I lead a life of the most intolerable boredom. “Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger. ’ ‘Yes, but in fact you’ve offered me far more entertainment than any French spy could have done. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. “When can we be alone together?” She asked him, never loosening her grip. Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. "You read it, Ruth. How is she?” “My sister is quite well, thank you,” she answered. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. I am suspected of having shot the man. ” The dinner was admirable as a dinner; nothing went wrong, from the golden and excellent clear soup to the delightful iced marrons and cream; and Miss Stanley’s praises died away to an appreciative acquiescence. “If you wish,” he said, “I will go there in the morning and see what can be done for him.
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