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. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. “That’s HIM,” said Ann Veronica, in sound, idiomatic English. “You had only to ask——” “Do you think,” Anna interrupted, with a note of passion trembling also in her tone, “that I would have taken alms from Sir John, the man to whom I had lied for your sake.
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