” She did not wait for Ann Veronica’s reply. Wood, who looks after her comforts, and visits her constantly. “Eight, Cavendish Square. "Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. " She pursed her lips and uttered a whistle, piercingly shrill and high; and instantly she became the object of intense astonishment on the part of the other diners. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten. ‘What do you mean?’ Gerald grinned. " "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. ‘When you say it like this, certainly it appears absurd.
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