Ann Veronica snatched at the opportunity, and spent most of the intervening time in the Assyrian Court of the British Museum, reading and thinking over a little book upon the feminist movement the tired woman had made her buy. She was the High Priestess. “May I enquire,” he asked smoothly, “in what way my appearance contributes to your amusement? If there is a joke I should like to share it. ” She looked at him doubtfully. But was it Faith? That is what she was this day going to find out. “You see,” said Ann Veronica, staring before her at the window-sash, “that’s the form my question takes at the present time.
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