She directed the orchestra to tune again. But I don’t wish to hear that abomination on her lips again. ‘Never fear, my love. The Frenchman had moved back into Piccadilly from Down Street, at which the lad following him had immediately sauntered away a yard or two. ” “No. The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand resting lightly on her waist. ‘But, Gérard—’ ‘Don’t start arguing,’ he said in a tone that brooked no defiance. ‘You’re speaking the truth. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return.
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