For a long time she surveyed a row of towering holly-hocks, as though they offered an explanation. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. Perhaps, after all, the others were right. I cannot let you go. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. He is all kindness, and will overlook them for your poor father's sake —for mine. The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. ” Then he asked, “Tell me! has this man, has he DARED to make love to you?” Ann Veronica had a vicious moment. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots.
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