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“Look here, Ann Veronica,” he began. It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. She sings better perhaps. “He will find it difficult no doubt to alter his style of living,” she said. The two great hotels on their right were still ablaze with lights. Ann Veronica woke rather later than usual, and lay awake for some minutes before she remembered a certain resolution she had taken in the small hours. ‘Bring her to me and we shall see. It was hard to meet that gaze.
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