He caught the smirk. Ann Veronica found herself walking back down the Avenue that had just been
the scene of her first proposal beside her aunt, and speculating for the first time
in her life about that lady’s mental attitudes. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and,
on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys
was collected in the yard. “We are not the sort that goes under,” said Ann Veronica, holding her hands so
that the red reflections vanished from her eyes. But I had to know for sure. ”
She nodded. She would not be driven in by this persistent,
sneaking aggression. “Who will you stop with?”
“I shall go on my own. Come along with us in the morning. She looked
about, watching a massive green storm cloud building in
the west. The cork came out with a loud pop, and Anna could not help wondering how it
must sound to the patient little crowd outside.
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