He was damned if he knew what to do. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. He glanced at Miss Klegg again, and spoke quickly and furtively, with eager eyes on Ann Veronica’s face. She was practicing with them on that very day, and displaced a rather mediocre boy violinist who claimed “to be better at the viola anyway” as first chair. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. ’ ‘Compel me? You do not know me, monsieur. She flew up from her stool and faced the door. And, what's more, I tell you, if Captain Sheppard is hanged, you need never hope to call me Mrs.
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