‘You put that thing away now, missie. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable. Kneebone helped to the pigeon-pie; while Thames unwired and uncorked a bottle of stout Carnarvonshire ale. To love in such a way, it is excessively selfish. It worked. The man had favoured him with a brief nod, but the girl had gone so far as to offer a tiny smile, and a look under her lashes with which not even Gerald, for all his scant interest in female society, could fail to be familiar.
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