Manning relinquished his cup, and looked meaningly at Ann Veronica. When my father died, and we were left alone in Jersey, I was quite a long time deciding whether I would go in for singing professionally or try painting. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging. This time, there was no doubt, she did not sleep. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man. It was the grand nursery of vice. “Unless you have an appointment, which you haven’t,” he said, “you’ll only waste your time here. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. ’ He sighed, spread his hands quite in her own manner, and fluttered his lashes. He stopped abruptly.
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