She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. “I don’t love him,” said Ann Veronica, getting a gleam. It was hard to meet that gaze. Bullding,” she declared. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. ’ Gerald eyed her with interest. “Earning a salary!” “You’re like a Princess in Exile!” he repeated, overruling her. ” She smiled. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street.
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