Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. In Singapore that had been her only dissipation: a dozen pairs of silk stockings. Then she examined with curiosity some knick-knacks upon a small round table by her side. Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung round the corner she had seen a strange thing. ’ The old man simply stared at her. It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. “Lucy, that’s horrible. It feels like it. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. “Feel better. . “I suppose I ought to congratulate you,” he said. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. “That is as you will,” she said.
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