“I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt. She never touched the manuscript with pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them where he might easily find them. “Forgive me,” he said. “Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. “I can’t endure it,” she said. He was tall and straight, and his expression was good. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. “I think,” began Ann Veronica, “that you don’t realize—” He disregarded her entirely. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. ’ He turned to the goggling footman and thrust him towards the coach.
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