She had been so young then. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. ’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. Come along, you mad jade. She felt terribly modern, even sporty as the magazines declared you should be. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition.
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