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Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. He would be off her case just as soon as his fever for her broke and he found a lover, and she imagined he must have plenty of girls from ritzy families lining up to choose from. He began to talk again in quick undertones that she could not clearly hear. Life seemed a very brave and glorious enterprise to Ann Veronica that day. Take a room!” “I say!” said Constance. She was delivered home by 11:30pm.
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