It was the bitterest moment of her life. “Vee,” she said, “come home. ‘Gerald Alderley, I don’t know what you deserve. Well, after a time there came a fever in my blood. “But I will! I will!” CHAPTER THE FIFTH THE FLIGHT TO LONDON Part 1 Ann Veronica had an impression that she did not sleep at all that night, and at any rate she got through an immense amount of feverish feeling and thinking. But something instinctive prevented that, and with the finest resolve not to be “silly” and prudish she found that whenever he became at all bold in this matter she became severely scientific and impersonal, almost entomological indeed, in her method; she killed every remark as he made it and pinned it out for examination. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. And in its way it was very well. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto.
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