You knew me in Paris. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. . The night was clear and moonlit, dazzling with even light blue shadows that shone into manicured lawns and pristine gardens. What is done cannot be undone. She was unusually helpful at breakfast, and unselfish about the eggs: and then she went off to catch the train before her father’s. “It’s either now or never,” said Ann Veronica, again ascending this stile. ‘Why do you think I told you about the portrait? I’d not seen it, of course, but I’d seen Miss Mary just before she got married, which is when it was painted. Why, that boy could hide for thirty years—without the girl.
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