who retailed a store of faded learning in the Tredgold laboratory. “Did I stand in the way of your going to college? Have I ever prevented you going about at any reasonable hour? You’ve got a bicycle!” “H’m!” said Ann Veronica, and then went on “I want to be taken seriously. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. Yet the thing hidden within her called and called. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy. ‘I’m a soldier, missie.
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