She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. "How do you know that?" rejoined Jack. 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. It was a purse. She 191 picked up the remote, usurping it of its dividing status between their bodies.
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