Least of all myself. Ann Veronica, who knew her dress became her, dropped a curtsy to her father’s regard. She went down, flushed and light-hearted, to the Widgetts’ after lunch to make some final arrangements and then, as soon as her aunt had retired to lie down for her usual digestive hour, took the risk of the servants having the enterprise to report her proceedings and carried her bag and hold-all to the garden gate, whence Teddy, in a state of ecstatic service, bore them to the railway station. If they entered a shop, he paused by the doorway, as if waiting for the journey to be resumed. Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. “Now I should like to know,” she said, looking at him with a quiet smile, “what you are doing here? It is not a particularly inspiring neighbourhood for walking about by yourself.
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