“Perhaps you will help me shuffle?” Ann Veronica did, and also assisted nimbly with the arrangements of the rows of eight with which the struggle began. Anna opened a cupboard and produced cups and saucers and a tin of coffee. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. Suddenly she understood. " "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. ‘Not if I heard him aright. He deserves none. ‘Have I not said so?’ ‘No, as it happens. He sat down. I went off to round up his wife. I was certain of it.
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