’ ‘And why are you not married,’ she demanded suddenly, ‘if it is that you have land?’ Gerald grimaced. Both carried packages of books and magazines. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. ‘All these soldiers,’ she complained, adding with a sweep of one arm at the major’s dress, ‘all of them in red as you.
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