The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. “I wonder,” he said, “is there anything we could do to help you to get rid of him?” “Can you think of anything?” Anna answered. Ruth went on to explain. He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of his tie and hair were almost rakish. ‘Jacques? Oh, that is news of the very finest. What of madame, his wife?’ ‘You know more of her than me,’ the girl said with a look of scorn. Perceiving he was about to take leave, Kneebone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of addressing. So was I, in fact. Manning?” she asked. But he has never been near her—never. He was no match for Brendon. ‘That’s right. Gashes on his arms were already beginning to heal and disappear. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank.
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