In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. ‘No one would credit that you are three years older than I. It could not be a legal marriage. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. He was a little impressed by Ann Veronica’s metaphor of the string, which, indeed, she owed to Hetty Widgett. She walked through the walls. ‘Don’t concern yourself,’ Gerald said calmly.
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