“The first person you love, Ann Veronica, is yourself—get hold of that! The soul you have to save is Ann Veronica’s soul. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. Love is a great thing, and happiness a joy. He sat down. Epithalamy might do. She married my Dad in a small ceremony down at City Hall. They put her down, and she leaped at them; she smote a helmet to the ground. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. But I had to know for sure.
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