"You've got him?" demanded Ireton. ’ ‘You mean the bookroom, miss. Husbands and wives, young lovers, and mothers with strollers thronged in the streets, all savoring the fine cool weather. The doctor would never betray him. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. Oh, goodness! Bilking! Ann Veronica, you’re a bilker!” Pause. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. ” “Not for you?” “No.
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