Afterwards we started for déjeuner in a motor. But the clearly definite thing was the ultimate escape. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. It’s the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident. She could not feel her own body. "In this pit," he added, pointing to the chasm below, "your brother is buried. Not I. Ann Veronica liked their relationship all the more because it was an unusual one. If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper. "Good-bye, young man; and good luck. Of course he hadn't played the game wisely.
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