” Again on his way homeward from Cavendish Square he abandoned the direct route to pass by the door of Anna’s flat. Melusine shrieked an imprecation, and ran the length of the aisle, searching for the weapon she had thrown. Hold your hand for a moment. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. It was as though he were personally aggrieved. Moreover, atrociously and inexorably, he allowed it to appear ever and again in horrible gleams that he suspected there was some man in the case. In and out of consciousness she sailed, hearing voices from memory that she could not distinguish from reality. Ann Veronica was not aware of this literary side of her teacher; she had a little tinge of annoyance at Miss Garvice’s advantage. “How has the world taken it?” he asked. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. Sheppard. She glanced into her companion’s face, and she saw there strange things. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. Do you understand?” “I do not,” he answered.
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