“I don’t love him,” said Ann Veronica, getting a gleam. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a soul with clean ideals. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. “Is Larry already in bed?” Cathy nodded yes. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. ‘Thanks to him, Hilary and I nearly had our heads blown off. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, half dreams, of Ramage. And for Suzanne and the vicomte, I am nothing. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. ’ The sharp eyes twinkled. ” “Really,” she said, with a hard little laugh, “you must regard me as a very goodnatured person.
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