Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. He could neither stifle nor deaden that. You will never be happy with this hanging over you. He, therefore, desires to interrogate him. ‘I think,’ he said pleasantly, ‘that it would be as well if you, Hilary, were to go and fetch the troops. Now, I'll be getting along. We were expecting rather to find a male antagonist. Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's head—that this was the playing of a soul in damnation.
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