. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. ’ For a moment or two there was dead silence in the parlour. She told him the story of her parents, her marriage to Iovelli, the loss of her baby, the kidnapping after the miscarriage. But a total stranger, a man you never saw twentyfour hours ago! It can't be thought of. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. There was enough contra-light to render her ethereal. And this clear-visioned child had comprehended that only half the rogues were really ill. And why, after all, should she not borrow money from Ramage? It was so true what he said; middle-class people WERE ridiculously squeamish about money. 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. There were moments when Ann Veronica rather more than suspected the chief speakers to be, as school-boys say, showing off at her. We'll come back for that by and by, and the dressing-gown. She was like an angel with one wing. "What is your name?" To-day, however, he broke the monotony.
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