Ann Veronica’s tense nerves started, and she stood still with her eyes upon him, wondering what it might be that impended. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. He used to live in a boarding-house in Russell Square. I have told you. I am going to smoke a little here, and then I shall go to the study. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. Selling out of the Army to take up his inheritance had spelled boredom to Gerald Alderley. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness.
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