Part 2 Ann Veronica carried a light but business-like walking-stick. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief. I'm almost sorry your suspicions are unfounded, if your father in any way resembled you, my youngster. Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away. Yet you catch her eye—you can’t seem to escape from it. Slowly and ruefully she realized why marriage was so idealized among her generations of those before her. But I will disappoint you. As I hope for mercy, I speak the truth!— let him deny it if he can. Her defence ceased rapidly to be in any sense ladylike, and became vigorous and effective; a strand of black hair that had escaped its hairpins came athwart Ramage’s eyes, and then the knuckles of a small but very hardly clinched fist had thrust itself with extreme effectiveness and painfulness under his jawbone and ear.
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