Then Ann Veronica passed on toward the tea in the garden, which was dotted with the elite of Morningside Park society, and there she was pounced upon by Lady Palsworthy and given tea and led about. Stanley almost liked Ramage. ‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. Then a surge of rage welled up. Yes, I think we have thoroughly thrashed that one out. After all, what can it matter? It was just to make sure. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. Do you remember what I said when you took me at the Mint four days ago? I told you my turn would come. Her concluding paragraph was, on the whole, perhaps, hardly starchy enough.
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