‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am. 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. “What did it matter?” she cried. ’ ‘Forgive me, but if that is the case, I don’t quite see why you should run away. After an hour of waiting, she slammed her bedroom door and he returned to his basement. “What have you been doing since our last talk? Still cutting up rabbits and probing into things? I’ve often thought of that talk of ours—often. Hold your hand for a moment. But he tells them that I am a spy.
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