He kissed her deeply and hungrily. ’ Lucy was silent for a space, once again wearing that inscrutable expression. She wanted to be on with the show. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. She might even forgive him. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy.
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