Can it ever be so good again?” Ann Veronica put out a firm hand and squeezed his arm. He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. He was wary of her, which meant that perhaps they had found one or many of the bodies that she thought she had hidden so well. “A new admirer, Annabel? But what has that to do with your going to England?” “Everything! He is Sir John Ferringhall—very stupid, very respectable, very egotistical. When Capes glanced up at them for a moment, Manning seemed to be holding his arms all about her, and there was nothing but quiet acquiescence in her bearing. I have only just left Wych Street. Why don’t you wait and see if you do truly love me, then I can believe you? Then I know I am worth waiting for.
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