‘Unless he is himself a man of substance. Perhaps, after all, the others were right. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. That register would be easy to get at; comforting thought. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. ‘You do not try. There are times when you make me feel a little thing at your feet—a young, silly, protected thing. . Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. She went to her own table and sat down. Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber.
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