The inn was a military haunt. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. “I cannot say who he is,” said Ann Veronica, “but he is a married man. All along the wooden benches before it sat a profusion of soldiery, a collection of barbers in attendance, busily employed in replaiting and powdering their hair ready for a military review scheduled for this afternoon. . She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. There was a gulf of eight years between her and the youngest of her brace of sisters—an impassable gulf inhabited chaotically by two noisy brothers. You are captain of your soul; don't forget your Henley. He waved to her. They were headed by an athleticlooking, swarthy-featured man, who was armed with a cutlass, which he waved over his head to cheer on his companions.
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