“NOW!” said Ann Veronica. ’ ‘Quite right, Gerald,’ approved Lucilla. ” “I am not sure whether I feel inclined to scold or thank you,” she declared. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. “I told you I did not love you. ’ He received a glare from his captive. I shall always be kind to him; I sha'n't bait him.
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