She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. Had it come already? Chapter XXVII JOHN FERRINGHAM, GENTLEMAN “Confess, my dear husband,” Annabel said lightly, “that you are bewildered. “He broke up with Katy Pfister last night on the phone, from what I hear. You were dying and your baby along with you. It was just a shabby, stupid, furtive business that began between us. The man looked hard at him. Manning, in an earnest voice, and waved his hand to the alley of mauve and purple. ’ ‘Gad, but she’s a beauty,’ gasped Hilary, and slammed his sword back in its scabbard. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand.
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