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Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. . But I don’t wish to hear that abomination on her lips again. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. Anna, who was disposed to be sharply critical, could find no fault with it. “Stop this—this humbugging,” he explained. She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak. He turned, and beheld Winifred. Gerald swore.
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