She was asked to meet him after his game Saturday afternoon. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’ ‘I should say so. ” There was a strange look in her face, the look of a frightened child. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse.
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