’ ‘That’s better. She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers. Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except those already mentioned. ‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death. ” For the moment her aunt could not think of any reply to this counterstroke, and Ann Veronica followed up her advantage by a sudden inquiry about her abandoned boots. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him.
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