‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. ‘And this is not all,’ went on the lady, evidently determined to disclose all her wrongs. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. ‘I don’t know what the devil you’re talking about. ’ She paused, holding her nurse’s eyes. She was feeling extraordinarily well that night, so that the sense of her body was a deep delight, a realization of a gentle warmth and strength and elastic firmness. Certainly not a gentlewoman. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket.
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