” “What else,” Lady Lescelles murmured, “are men for?” Anna laughed. A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom. Ennison, who had been standing with his back to the window, came suddenly a little further into the room. Ramage pursed his rather loose lips and shrugged his shoulders, with his eyes fixed steadily upon her. He dressed rather after the fashion of the West End than the City, and affected a cultured urbanity that somehow disconcerted and always annoyed Ann Veronica’s father extremely. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. The inside was empty except for an infant, which from a distance looked utterly normal. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured. "Set down the kid," roared Blueskin, savagely. It was the only way to make the monthly bills. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair.
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