Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. ’ For the moment I thought it was a telegram from Gwen. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. Save my seat. ‘Something for you, Lucy?’ he asked, interrupting a heated argument that had obviously been in progress for some little time before their arrival. Do you know, I am beginning to believe that we only exist nowadays by the tolerance of these millionaire tradesmen. 153 The halls emptied with special urgency as teens rushed forth into heated cars and buses to make the mad dash home before the coming storm. She had not at first the power for concealment. But think of the disillusionment! Except for our sex we have minds like men, desires like men. He had died before they married, and when her brother became a widower she had come to his assistance and taken over much of the care of his youngest daughter.
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