She took up a book and threw it down again. There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. ‘I said you were sympathique,’ she told him. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. Her aunt arrived about halfpast ten, in black and with an unusually thick spotted veil. ’ ‘Gracious heaven, Gerald! If your dear mama could not drag you to the altar, I am hardly likely to succeed. Her father held some printed document in his hand, and appeared not to observe her entry.
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