Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations. “Are you aware, Ann Veronica, you nearly throttled that gentleman?” Then she reviled her own foolish way of putting it. My mother really wants to meet you. ’ ‘Ah, but there’s the little matter of your presence here,’ said Gerald on a note of apology. She felt the thrill race through her body. He was silent. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. She appeared to be considering.
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