’ Colour suffused the man’s face. This Joan would hold them for a little. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. He was unusually absurd and ready, and all the time it seemed to Ann Veronica as a delightful possibility, as a thing not indeed to be entertained seriously, but to be half furtively felt, that he was being so agreeable because she had come back again. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. Died short, I suppose, and the girls had to shift for themselves. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground. This man was her husband in the eyes of both God and man.
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