‘Me, I have a name. ” She barked. " Mr. "Anything else?" "Your waistcoat. ” She thought of her father, and with an effort dismissed him from her mind. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. She emerged with a white face and wide-open eyes upon a little, red-lit landing. She HAD cried, Ann Veronica knew. She had asked about that already, and her father had replied, evasively: “We’ll have to see about that, little Vee; we’ll have to see about that. First, I went to Country Tom's, the Goat, in Long Lane.
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