” Ann Veronica responded with conviction: “I wish so, too. Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. Her birthday was four months away, and that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone.
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