Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. ‘And me?’ ‘Oh, you’re mad because you wish to blow off my head. And because of this hanging gold Ah Cum left many doors open to doubt. She had gladly lowered her eyes as she had been instructed to in front of the fine ladies and lords, as she was more interested in their clothing and fripperies than their faces. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid.
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