Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. . ’ Gerald gazed at her without expression. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. Had he had the child to think of, he might have recovered from his grief at Mary’s death. He kissed her deeply and hungrily. It interwove with her biological work. Perhaps you will explain the state of panic into which I seem to have thrown you.
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