"It's you, Jack, who are persuading my brother to do wrong. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. I thought about how insensitive my behavior was and even though I don’t think that I was being antiSemitic on purpose, I can see how dumb I was being. Not fit to be dust on your boots. McClintock, coming from below, saw them and went forward. It is no good waiving the thing; it is true. “I love you, Ann Veronica.
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